It’s not pretty.
But then again, I don’t make any time to give a damn because of course, time is of the essence.
Wet and reeking of chemicals, I heave myself out. Some days it’s clear and welcoming, other days the thick murkiness makes me question why I insisted on deeming it still healthy. In this case, I blame my naivety and pretend that water-laden diseases will just make you stronger. It’s time for battle, white blood cells.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeeak. Squeak.
Apparently one-dollar Old Navy flip flops require WD-90 on the tile floors. I try to step lighter, place my weight differently or maybe just walk faster to avoid the unusually piercing soundtrack to my pace. Forget it. Nothing helps. Play your sweet song cheap things.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeeak. Squeak. Oh crap. What was that reflection?
You didn’t see it?!
It was horrid!
It was this soggy, tangled thing. Its hair was slicked back, yet still mangled its face. Then it had these deep, crimson rings around both of its eyes and its face was peppered with red bumps and bruises. It was a frightful sight that you are probably better off never seeing. I can’t look anymore, I had to move on.
By this time, I’m questioning what designer deemed these free towels worthy of any sort of drying and wicking. Barely large enough to wrap around me, but short enough to ensure that my booty is always, ever so slightly, hanging out. Carefully preventing a free-for-all peep show while still disregarding all modesty, I rip the spandex-like suit off and prep for my next outfit change which is actually more difficult than it appears.
Wet body and dry clothing don’t make for a seamless transition. It’s a balancing act to stay appropriately covered yet shove limbs into clothing that seems to be stuck in its place. HEAVE-HO-HEAVE-HO. Where are my costume changing people? Cher has people. Britney has people. I need people!
What feels like an embarrassing and awkward half an hour is probably only 29 minutes, or three minutes…to-may-toe/to-ma-toe. I lace up my feet and pull back my hair into a svelte pony. Don’t worry, I’ll share the how-to so you can pin it on Pinterest. And like that, I am ready for round two.
But on the way out, I catch another glimpse…
Why won’t that freaking monster leave me alone?