MY DAY AT THE FAUX OLYMPICS
By BERNTHIS.COM on September 06, 2008
I entered the pool area at the gym today and par for the course asked whoever was already in the water (in this case, two men):
JESSICA: Is it cold?
One man just responded with a blank stare. The other, a 40 something year old, who from this point forward shall be known as "Freaky Guy ", loudly asked:
FREAKY GUY: What are you? A sissy? Hop in.
As I stood at the edge of the pool, putting on my bathing cap and goggles, "Freaky Guy" then engaged me in the following conversation:
FREAKY GUY: You know, I could do what Michael Phelps did.
JESSICA: I think you're a bit old for that.
FREAKY GUY: (with a look of total shock on his face) Why? How old is he?
JESSICA: 23, 24?
FREAKY GUY: Wanna race me?
I then jumped into the pool and began to swim. I'd gone about two laps when I hit the end of the lane only to find him standing in the water, smiling, in the lane right next to mine. I then pushed off and had only done a few strokes when suddenly, "Freaky Guy" races by me. By the time I reached the other end, there he was, AGAIN, standing, smiling, only this time , he was pumping his fists into the air and yelling:
FREAKY GUY: I WON!!! HEH HEH, YEAH, ALRIGHT!!!! WOOO!!
At this point, it was only he and I in the entire pool area and "Freaky Guy" was now starting to give me a "bad" feeling and so like every intelligent woman, I just kept swimming and hoped I could get in a full workout AND make my escape BEFORE he decided that since I refused to race him he would have no choice but to rape and drown me instead.
Having accomplished his dream of getting the "gold" in the "MIXED singles, 50m freestyle", "Freaky Guy" exited the pool only to be replaced by another man who immediately took his place in the lane next to mine. Thankful, I stopped for a moment and whispered to this guy:
JESSICA: If you leave before me, could you let me know? That guy is really scaring me.
to which he responded:
GUY: Oh sure, absolutely.
About FIVE minutes later, while "Freaky Guy" was sitting in the Jacuzzi nearby, basking in his "Olympic" glory, I was at the far end of the pool, turning to head back, when I noticed that the guy in the lane next to me was now GONE.
Luckily, at the same time, “Freaky Guy ” put on his sneakers (which I now noticed were parked in a corner alongside his CARRY-ON PIECE OF LUGGAGE) and wheeled his stuff out of the area and headed towards the steam room for the "medal ceremony".
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