Goggle goggles

I’ve been a swimmer for some time now. Since I was like, eight. (I’m a big boy now so that’s a long time ago.) I’ve never been particularly good at it in the traditional sense, but I have been particularly strong, givin’ me some decent speed for twenty to forty seconds at a time. Somehow, I even faked my way onto a collegiate swim team. But that’s not the point. For some reason, I’m still tryin’ to hang onto the whole being-an-athlete thing. Denial? Probably. I’ve got a meet coming up this weekend, so I’ve been splashin’ around my local gym’s pool for the past couple of days.

Today, once I was pretty much done with my pathetically short workout,* a chick wearing a pink and black bikini jumps into a lane next to me. This is interesting, I say to myself in my head. Swimming past her and basically staring, I think she’s pretty hot. Mostly because her breasts are very large. I tend to notice such things. As I lengthen my workout by swimming single laps of single-armed freestyle (allows me to always look toward the same lane) and stretching at each wall, I start to smell strawberry shampoo. Ooh, a conversation starter. I time the drill/stretch until I can anchor myself to a wall right before she gets to her’s. But then I remember I’m a pussy and don’t say anything. Whatever, it’d be weird and awkward if I did. Especially considering in another lane swam what I could only assume was her mother or her daughter. It’s real hard to get a read on trailer-park lookin’ people swimming next to you.

I get out of the pool and decide to jump on in the hot tub before I leave. Nothin’ like hot tubbing after a 100 degree day. In the reflection of the pool windows, I see her start to walk toward the tub. Hmm, potential second chance. She quickly walks in and I’m not able to get a good look at her. Shit. Face looks a bit nerdish, aided by a pair of dweeb glasses. Strike one. Could either be twenty or forty. Strike two. But I’m still thinking about saying something – as the tits were, as I initially suspected, pretty awesome. I stay in my spot near the stairs, she sorts of floats around. I keep looking at the clock, other random things. I see her look away, I look at her tits. Just need to make sure. I twice almost say something about the shampoo smell or being in a hot tub after a record-settingly hot day. As previously stated, I’m a pussy so I didn’t say anything. This worked out for the best, as once she left I got a full look at her. It wasn’t exactly great, kinda fat and had a shoulder tat. Don’t wanna mess with that. Probably like, a four-and-a-half and a definite thumbs down.

This made me realize something – you can’t tell what the hell anyone looks like when you’re swimming next to them. Sure, someone with a solid 30+ BMI’ll look a bit rotund, but someone like tonight? A definite no, yet I was almost deceived. I never realized it before, because most other girls I’ve swam with are teammates. Can’t be sizing up a teammate, that’s akin to checkin’ out a cousin. You can only do it once in a while. But in a random public pool? Dangerous. Real dangerous. From now on I’m going to just ignore all other swimmers. Unless they’re like 12, then it’s game on.

*I did like, maybe ~2,000 yards in about an hour. Should be doing like, double that. Whoops.

This post was originally to be titled “Pool Goggles.” I almost immediately realized that was ridiculous and punched myself in the cock. Then I was ready to go with “Goggles,” but I thought that was too ambiguous. So I decided to go redundant instead. This has been an editorial post script with Junker23.


One Response to “Goggle goggles”

  1. […] The meet I referred to here happened this weekend. This was a long-course meters meet, meaning that it held in what is general […]

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