Fuck I am out of shape. Seeing that Sunday is my day off, I wanted to do something fun and relaxing for me, especially after working 15 hours yesterday. So when I got out of bed this afternoon ( I worked until 7am ) I though what could be better than a trip to the Schenley pool, about 100 yards or so from the blogging bench. The daily admission to the pool is $5, and since all I had was 20s (holla, holla, bling, bling) I decided to stop by Numan's store and grab a Snapple, so as not to freak the pool attendant out by busting out my stacks and asking for change. So I get my Snapple, put my wallet back in my pocket and make my way to the pool.
Sos I get to the pool, pay the attendant and then pick out a spot to set up shop,unfurl the towel, set my bag down with my iPad, my Snapple and the book I am currently reading. I take my shoes off and put them in my bag, as well as my keys and my cell phone. I then walk over to the pool and at first sit on the edge,but then slide right in. I try swimming over to the edge nearest from where I entered to he pool, when an Asian lady said she had thought I dropped something. Sure enough I did, my wallet was now at the bottom of the deepest part of the pool. No problem, I can swim underwater pretty well at least I could the last time I went swimming, which was probably 2+ years ago. So I dive down and my natural buoyancy coupled with the two fried potato sandwiches I had for lunch pushed me right back up. I dove down a couple of more times and Pete Rose has a better chance at the Hall of Fame than I had at getting down to 12 feet. I saw a pole outside the pool,so I climbed out at thought about using it, but it's a pool full of people and two lifeguards on duty, doing anything like that undetected seemed to be out of the question. I suppose I could have asked for help, but that would be a sign of weakness, and it's one thing to be an out of shape blob, it is another to be and out of shape, weak blob. I looked at the pool again and realized the deep part where my wallet was wasn't so far off of the edge that I could jump out to it. I could use my momentum to fight off my fat in trying to reach the bottom.
To quote the lady who tried undressing in the store, "You know you want some of this"
Sos again I jump into the pool, my plan seems to be working I can see my wallet is just a few feet away, but I start coming up toward the surface again. Instead I manage to make a kick downward, and now my mind is filled with hope, even as my lungs are saying to me, " Fuck this plan, dude." I make it far enough down that I can grab my wallet, and now it becomes one of those made for TV sequences where there is a bomb with a timer, and somehow the timer always gets stopped with one second, that was my lungs and coming up from the bottom of the pool. I got about two thirds of the way up, and I breathed out, I could see the bubbles make the waters surface before I was going to. It was kind of like the Bob Walker Waterslide incident, minus the fact of a hot female life guard wasn't there to save me, there was a guy on duty instead.
My head cracked the waters surface and now it is simply making it to the pools edge. But there are cute girls in bikinis up here, best to act cool when making it to the edge rather than be all panicked with arms flailing around screaming "I almost drowned in there."
After that escapade I decided I didn't deserve ice cream
So let me tell you about my 15 hour day, because it is going to fuck up my schedule for the rest of the week. When the schedule originally came out, Ed asked me to work a 3-11 shift on Saturday. Now our company policy for holidays is full timers who have been there for over a year get paid, regardless of whether they work, if you work a holiday you get time and a half and if you are a full timer with over a year in you also get an additional vacation day. So when he asked if I would work, my first thought was "cha - ching", $18 an hour plus a vacation day, yes please. Later in the week Bobby asked me if I wanted to switch shifts, he would work my 3-11 and I would work his 11-7. Again I thought, no problem, I have to go in on Saturdays anyway to do our grocery orders, reload the lottery machines, make my tuna salad again, process invoices for the accountant. My Saturday's are usually pretty busy, but I like them because I get to work at my own pace. Obviously that isn't going to happen if I am pinned to a register, so I went in 7 hours early. I got most everything done before I had to take over running the store, I still had my grocery order to finish, but the invoices were done, I made both tuna and egg salad, get the lottery machines done and started filing away the paperwork for June. Then I took over the store at 11 and it was pretty uneventful. It was slow enough that I got my grocery order done, plus I reset two coolers and reloaded the milkshake machine ( because my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, that's right, it's better than yours). I also pulled more kielbasa and jalapeño dogs from the freezer downstairs to put on the hot dog roller and wrapped a couple of packages of hot dog buns. Basically I kept myself busy, even if the store wasn't.
Around 6am we had a pair of gay guys come in, and as they are at the register, the one guy says about himself to his partner, "I am an asshole. Then again I guess I am what I eat." You know, I don't care if you are gay or straight, but telling me you eat ass is a little tmi. Just sayin.
As the clock approached 7am, I was seriously considering a stroll over to the Strip District to have me some brekkie, followed by a trip to Scratch N Dent. By the time my replacement arrived however, he wasn't late or anything, I got my shit together and left and as I am walking down the street I am feeling just how old I am. My feet are sore from being on them for 15 hours and all I want to do is sleep. So I get home after a quick detour to CVS, where I bough some beverage and I settled in for a nap. I slept for a couple of hours and had to get up to pee. My feet still hurt so I went back to sleep after my pee break and I woke up again around 2 pm which was when the whole swimming fiasco happened. I got up and made a couple of fried potato sandwiches for lunch and the decided to go swimming, or sinking or drowning or whatever you want to call my poolish endeavor.
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