Brownkness=brownies

It has been a weird week. From rainy days, to pool parties in a tundra to a interview that could potentially lead to something better than working at pools. Just thought about that though. What if I do get the job? Then my stories about the pool will cease to be! Well there goes the blog idea...oh well. I will continue with stories from a different crypt.



I started my week in a bathroom. Yes, a bathroom. An air conditioned one at that. It is the only dry place at the kidney-sized pool and is considered a nice shelter from the thunderstorms above. I can't say that I didn't bring the storm on my ferocious rain dance (which obviously worked) and then I enjoyed my time sewing for a good straight 8 hours. Not many people say they get paid to sew, at a pool, receiving one heck of a horrendous tan line.



The funny thing about this pool is their odd choice of decor. When I think of a pool I think of the obvious chain link fence, lawn chairs and a red lifeguard tube. This "council" decided that they wanted to spruce things up a bit.

No caption needed. They are there.

The Emergency phone in the women's restroom. Even the EMT was weirded out by this.

The bathroom decor courtesy of stick-on fish and sea horses. Always makes me smile.

My view from inside my bathroom post. Check out the decorations zip tied to the fence.

I do feel like I have plenty of stories to share, but due to the face that I have been working from 1pm to 12am, I think I deserve a break. More to come...of course.

Just a Chapter

Battle Sunscreen
It was the sunscreen battle of the century: Woman versus child. In his eyes that aluminum bottle was a deathly taser that would produce large amounts of torture to his small body. This is where I start off my day. It is the insistent screams, sad screams, as if he was pleading for forgiveness about something he had done. It was a fight between an odd pair. The woman was in her mid 40s (or could have been younger, but we will have to base it off appearances) and is probably the sister of Matilda’s principal, can’t remember her name. She was a beastly woman, to put it nicely. She fully filled out her skirted, floral swim suit and had a mass of dyed, frizzy red hair on top of her head. It looked like a disaster from the start: the sunscreen fight, I mean. She had two twin boys with her, obviously full of energy and ready for the “BABY POOL!” They screamed this phrase in unison ready to jump into the foot of water. Their cries of joy turned into cries of “PLEASE, MOMMY, NOOOO!” I thought she was beating them by the tone of their cries, but as I turned she was armed with a deadlier weapon: 50 spf spray bottle of sunscreen. I still remember the days of actual lotion, and I wonder how that would of gone with the youngsters. As she grabbed the first son, she sprayed him quickly from head to toe. He squirmed, wriggled, squatted and tried to get away from her straight aim, but had no such luck. His twin was watching from the side lines, wondering if his mom would hear his pathetic chant/cry of “No Sunscreen.” When finished with the first boy she went to reach for her other screaming child. He bolted for the other side of the pool, making it impossible for her to grab hold. This lady-son chase lasted for a good five minutes until the mother outsmarted him with a sideline player: another mother. As her child ran by she simply asked the woman to “Will you please just clothesline him as he comes by?” The woman reacted and did just that. I watched as he was caught in a line of fire, reacting to the spray as if it were a blowtorch; he survived.

Something 'bout Maria
Oh Maria. This is a woman so full of culture, spirit and passion that she just does not belong at a pool. The 65 year-old grandmother speaks fluent Spanish and jibberish as a second language. Although her English is broken and her eye-sight weak, strengthened by the thick magnifying lenses of her glasses which make her small eyes seem quite large, she has a knack for making a spectacle of herself. It may be that pool etiquette was not taught to her when she was young. Either way, Maria has an interesting story to tell.

My few encounters with Maria have been brief. One to explain to her that yes I could give her grandson swim lessons. She insisted on saying that they must be “EVERYDAY, EVERYDAY, EVERDAY!” I nodded my head in agreement. Everyday it must be. I saw her again on adult swim day, where I was forced to explain that her grandchildren could not come to the pool. She looked at me with puzzled (large) eyes, not comprehending what I was trying to say. Eventually after a circle of arguments her granddaughter led her home. The one encounter I wish I COULD of seen was last year:

Maria does not quite blend in with the crowd. Her mix of grey and red hair frames her leathery face. Her outfits never seem to quite match and her swimsuit is a whole different story. Maria added to her uniqueness by getting up from her laying out position, standing on the steps of the 3-foot water, squatted neatly above the water and proceeded to pee into the pool. I want to clarify the difference from peeing IN the pool and peeing INTO the pool. I know for a fact that everyone has partaken in this disgusting action. It seems a reasonable thing to for any child or rational adult to do. Why waste your time getting out of the pool, drying off, going to the bathroom, washing your hands, and then jumping back into the pool. It all seems quite tedious and silly when you are sitting in a large body of water. No one will know, except for the few close people who catch sudden warmth in the cold water. It is the short cut and the secret rule of the pool. Maria did not know about this secret pool rule and instead disgusted all those around her. Parents wanted her kicked out, babies were crying: it was a mess. But how can you kick poor Maria out when every single one of those complainers has done the exact same thing, just not as out in the open.

CBM Update
A trait that I noticed today in CBM is her constant hurry. There is a hurry to go to the bathroom, hurry to find a chair, hurry to drink a beer, hurry to smoke a cigarette. She just never stops. Today she was gathering her things, finding a chair and then all of a sudden she jumps up and actually runs to the car. It really wasn’t something I was expecting or enjoying but that is what she did. Bikini and flip flops running to her car. I thought maybe she left her small child in the car seat in the back and had to go save her. That was a wrong assumption. I saw her grab her left-behind item, run back through the gates and not stop til she reached her destination: her lawn chair. What she held in her hand was a bottle of tanning oil. I still don’t understand the urgency. Sure it was 12 PM, but I am pretty sure she had a lot of sun time left in the day. Of course she was drinking her Natural Light in her blue Coozie, smoking her third cigarette in the 10 minutes she had been sitting there.

The most interesting thing of the day was her drug deal in the pool parking lot. Sure, I probably should of ran out there and busted them, but then what kind of story would that make? After her shifty visit with this shady man in an unmarked white van, she came running back in with a wad of cash. The cash was divided up between her and her friend. She quickly got on the phone to one of her "friends." I was just there, sitting, minding my own business. I couldn't help by over hear what she had to say. "My s*** just went up! It's like $9 a pill now. So I am sorry honey. All I can do is get you 24." This bargaining went on for awhile. I am still in shock, or guess it is to be expected.

More stories to come...I am on a roll.

Spotlight goes to "CBM"

The intensity of stories that have been showered on me in this last week are...one word: ridiculous. Between the 4th of July, my boy coming to see me and just more random pool stories, I can't seem to wrap my head around what I call "my life."

I thought about it all today while I sat on my throne* looking out at the small children frolicking in the deep water. "You're it." "No, you are it." "Hey, that's not fair!" "You are a cheater." "I quit." Basically that sums up how I feel about life in general. There are the winners and losers of the "game" and you are thrown in with the cheaters, quitters and just the jerks who constantly win everything. I wouldn't go as far to simplify life down to a game of Shark and Minnows (which somehow they manage to play incorrectly EVERY time) but every time one of those punks yells out "THAT'S NOT FAIR" I want to blow my whistle and say "Oh kid, you have no idea." I don't think there is anything in the world that is deemed "fair." Maybe fair skin counts? Well at least I have that going for me. I know it's not that bad, and I am really am in no place to complain. Complaining has never been a becoming character in anyone. I would rather think of it as a contemplation I have about what I am doing right now at this moment and whether or not it makes a difference. That is where I am headed with this. Making a difference, doing something with what I have been given and DOING SOMETHING. Still sitting, still waiting.

That is what everyone else at the pool does, too. They sit and they wait for their children to realize that they have raisin fingers and its time to go home. Now would be the time to introduce Crack Baby Momma (for typing purposes we will abbreviate it as CBM). CBM comes to the pool about three times a week in her hot pink bikini, two packs of ciggs and a large case of Budlight. She could care less if it was cold, right out of the cardboard case will do, straight from the shelves of Shop n' Save. I watched her the other day down a Mountain Dew. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with the picture, but as her brother rolled up with that gleaming blue case, I saw her nails come out and she ripped open that case with a vengence. I am never one to pass judgement...nevermind, I do pass judgement, but I am pretty sure this lady is tripping off of something else too. She comes waltzing in with her Baby Daddy (Crack Baby Daddy) who never looks quite right. His eyes are glazed over and his speech is...not right. I can never figure his name out because all she calls him is "Daddy." It really is quite disturbing when a grown woman calls her significant other?? (actually found out they are not together, but they like to make out in the hot tub) Daddy for all to hear. "Daddy, I am going to use the restroom!" I really don't get it. More stories of her to come...

Every morning we find various objects by the side of the pool. The creepin' teens like to jump the fence and swim in this hole in the ground. What it is about a large body of water and moonlight that people like, I don't know. A few weeks ago I found two pairs of boxers, a towel, a pack of ciggs and a lighter neatly tossed into the hot tub. That was mystery number one.



The next time it was an upgrade to a Miller Light can (full), a men's M wifebeater and the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time.

What was next beats 'em all. The infamous PIMP cup was found in all its glory next to the pool full with red wine. Beautiful. I finally found that picture. I know I like it and I am thinking about making one for myself.


I wish I could rememember more of the awesome, crazy weird things that have been going on! Too bad I am like an old woman when it comes to my memory. Shoot.

Until next time...

Invisible

Today was just another long, sun-intensive day at the pool. As I threw on my "invisible sunglasses" today, I sat back to watch another set of stories unfold.

The teenie-boopers gathered in their tight groups. Girls flinging their hair frequently while flashing their newly straightened teeth. The high-pitched squeals were getting to me. The skateboarders (12 and unders) were sporting their skinny jeans and swishy hair. Gross. One small boy stuck out amongst the crowd. He seemed to be mature for his age or his growth has been stunted, severely. An older group of pot heads walked over to young kids and started talking about their trip into the woods and how the smoke pot. The small boy answered swiftly, "Dude, you smoke weed? Dude, so do I!" I was waiting for the laughter, but none followed. Soon he was spotted picking up his lime green skate board and sail down the paved parking lot with his new "friends". The girls were left with the boy in skinny jeans and a squeaky voice, that hopefully will be healed with time. Yes, this all just happened while I sat quietly on that magnificent stand armed with my red foam tube that I was tempted to use as a "get your head right kid" weapon. No such luck.

This is my beautiful scenery.

Tomorrow will be another all-day shift and I am preparing for my rain dance. I have one. It involves a soap bar, turtle and indian music. It has never failed me.

I am looking forward to blowing some stuff up on the fourth. Boom, Boom, Pow.