So I went. I did the water class thing. It was… not bad at all and if I’d had more time I probably already would have been back.

The water was pleasantly WAY warm. Nice surprise. There were people of all sizes and shapes and ages, so I tried to migrate toward the grandmas. I always associate water classes with my own grandmother. Despite my best efforts,  I ended up next to a creepy guy. He was way chatty. I wasn’t.

Here is where it’s really good not to be one of those people who thinks she has to be nice all the time. I am SO NOT ONE OF THOSE. The chatty creepy guy talked. And he talked some more. I only occasionally gave a polite half smile if I absolutely had to and pretended not to hear him or his questions.

Then he touched my leg in a way that was probaby accidental. I ignored it, moved over, and when he did it again he had the nerve to say, “Oops! Guess I just want to touch you!”

Um… gross.

I’m not big on people touching me, and it’s about impossible for someone to get away with it for any reason at all if I’ve decided I don’t like them for some reason or another.  And I did not like this guy.  (Before he touched my leg, and I was ignoring him, he talked about how expensive his wife’s miscarriage was. It was the most heartless, horrendous, inappropriate observation ever. I was glad his wife was not with him.)

I have a Dirty Look that could wither otherwise healthy plants. I don’t use it often, and never on plants. It’s pretty squinty with the eyes, but there’s more to it than that. I let loose with the Dirty Look and didn’t let up until he turned and went  far, far away to chat up other people about God knows what.

Which was the goal.

When he left, suddenly there were very nice  grandmas, and a lovely lady named Donna.

At the end of class, one grandma in a black skirtini told me that I was too little to be in water that deep using that particular type of foam barbell and that was why I was having a hard time and kept popping out of the water. Next time, she said, I should use the other kind, and go up front.

I wondered why she didn’t tell me that at a time it could have been useful.  But it did bring out my inner 8 yr old and make me want to say, “nuh UH, I am NOT TOO LITTLE for the DEEP END.”

(and hello? I’m not.)

My only regret about this particular water class is that I did not haul Mr. Creepy off somewhere and have a Big Eyed, Dixie Carter style chat with him about babies and money and loss and death and sensitivity and privacy. He NEEDED that. It might not have altered his perspective in the slightest, but when you’re next to someone who is THAT much of a jerk – then probably you have a divine responsibility to lecture/minister to/scare the guy.

I should have.

But I was in a swimsuit, and God, if you want me to confront a bad guy of any sort I am ALL FOR IT, but please don’t make me do it in a polka dotted  swimsuit. I just don’t feel assertive enough.

I’d rather punch a guy while wearing jeans and a sweater.

I am NOT too little for the deep end. I just have preferences.

Be Sociable, Share!

•