A pool stalker is sharing the planet with me. Marge, her name is Marge and I know that because she signs her name on the pool log just like I do. She looks like a Marge, a bland, forgettable face kind of like a goat's, greying hair cut in a bob, an athlete's body, soft in the predictable places and she is older than me. Despite that fact she is a stronger swimmer, she does a fast crawl to my casual butterfly stroke. When our schedules coincide I can feel her eyes on me from the other lane. Today I finished first and headed down to the locker room. I was under the hair dryer, my lime green towel wrapped around me snugly and suddenly, there she was. She bounded, yes bounded, over to me and made a complimentary comment about my swim bag, a converted Trader Joe's sack. And then she left, she didn't even use the toilet, now what to think of that.
Today she signs in just a few minutes before me. The hour passes and I have accomplished what I came to do and I head into the bowels of the building, the location of the women's locker room and for a century this college only accepted men as students so I guess we get the scummy seconds. I walk past the showers and out of the corner of my eye I see her, waiting for me. Naked as naked can be and she is combing her nicely styled hair and her cosmetics are flawless and there is a gold and turquoise necklace around her neck nestled between two perfect breasts. Well, anybody's breasts are perfect when our arms are above our heads. She purrs at me,"well, hello-o-ooh!" Marge appears extremely pleased to see me and we are the only two occupants of this dungeon room. I spit out a "hi" and head toward the toilet. Swim pees are serious pees, your bladder was buoyed in the water, now you are weight-bearing and feeling the pressure.
I linger on the stool and wonder why she has to be so naked when everybody else scurries to get their towels around them. Damn, this woman cannot be from the Midwest. I know she is a faculty member as she marks that column when logging in her name. At least I can attract professional academics and I actually feel proud of this.
Out I come and she's still posing and her body is unmarred by pregnancies and poor dietary choices. I figure the best way to nip this craziness in the bud is to show her my own disastrous body. Off comes the towel and here is my lumpy abdomen compromised by three pregnancies and a progressive love of alcohol. There have been three breast biopsies that left the tissue dented and dimpled and nursing three babies has assisted gravity's plan for my bosoms. But she is not swayed by all this and oh God, now she has winked at me. I leave hastily and red-faced and still dripping from the swim.
Today she signs in just a few minutes before me. The hour passes and I have accomplished what I came to do and I head into the bowels of the building, the location of the women's locker room and for a century this college only accepted men as students so I guess we get the scummy seconds. I walk past the showers and out of the corner of my eye I see her, waiting for me. Naked as naked can be and she is combing her nicely styled hair and her cosmetics are flawless and there is a gold and turquoise necklace around her neck nestled between two perfect breasts. Well, anybody's breasts are perfect when our arms are above our heads. She purrs at me,"well, hello-o-ooh!" Marge appears extremely pleased to see me and we are the only two occupants of this dungeon room. I spit out a "hi" and head toward the toilet. Swim pees are serious pees, your bladder was buoyed in the water, now you are weight-bearing and feeling the pressure.
I linger on the stool and wonder why she has to be so naked when everybody else scurries to get their towels around them. Damn, this woman cannot be from the Midwest. I know she is a faculty member as she marks that column when logging in her name. At least I can attract professional academics and I actually feel proud of this.
Out I come and she's still posing and her body is unmarred by pregnancies and poor dietary choices. I figure the best way to nip this craziness in the bud is to show her my own disastrous body. Off comes the towel and here is my lumpy abdomen compromised by three pregnancies and a progressive love of alcohol. There have been three breast biopsies that left the tissue dented and dimpled and nursing three babies has assisted gravity's plan for my bosoms. But she is not swayed by all this and oh God, now she has winked at me. I leave hastily and red-faced and still dripping from the swim.
5 comments:
oh dear.
or was it "oh my"
damned if I know.
prolly just "oh, wow."
Oh Marge, you old goat. You definitely have to keep us posted on this one.
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