Wednesday, November 26, 2014


Over time, I've grown used to the Aqua Ladies, that group of women-of-a-certain-age who fill the pool three days a week, and leave trails of pool water all over the locker room (and toilet seats). Most of them are cheerful and friendly, so I've started trying to overlook some of their more annoying tendencies. (Share the bench, eh, ladies?)

Anyway, aside from the odd wave and hello to a few of them in passing, I largely ignore them, but on Monday this week, I overheard a conversation that left me shaking my head.

"...running around naked! I've asked the front desk to change it, but they won't."

My ears perked up at the word "naked," and I glanced in their direction. I was distracted by the television mounted in one corner of the room--and sure enough, some "real housewives" of Some American City were frolicking on a beach in their birthday suits.

I smiled to myself and shook my head slightly. To be sure, I find 98% of reality TV annoying and pointless, and despair at our country's fascination with people who don't appear to do much of anything as they are richly rewarded with celebrity status and lavish lifestyles simply for existing. I mean, at least bring some kind of talent to the table, right?

That said, nudity doesn't really bother me. I mean, I'm about as likely to frolic naked on national television or any other public sphere as I am to marry a rhinoceros, but if that's your thing, well, more power to you. It's not like the people on the show were gettin' busy or anything, they were simply skinny-dipping in the ocean and running around. 

To hear the Aqua Ladies tell it, however, it was A Scandal. 

"It's disgusting! I've complained several times to the front desk, but nothing's been done." the original complainer cried. 

"There were children in here a few minutes ago!!" exclaimed another woman in reply.

If they'd been wearing pearls, I'm sure, they'd have been clutching them. As it happens, they weren't wearing pearls...or much of anything else. One was standing there, in the aisle, with her swimsuit pulled down to her waist, her breasts proud and free.

Unable to contain a giggle, I turned away from the unfolding drama, and let them have their disgust.

Today, I was back for more gym fun, and as I locked my belongings in a locker, again, I was entertained by a few distressed Aqua Ladies in the locker room, one holding a remote control she'd demanded from the front desk and aiming it at the TV, desperately clicking buttons and saying, "I can't get it to change!"

"It's so disgusting," her friend replied. "It's trash."

I made my escape before I lost all control. When I returned to collect my purse a while later, the Aqua Ladies were gone...and the TV was firmly turned off.

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