Monday, July 20, 2009

Swimming, weightlessness, hot tubbing, and learning experiences

We invited ourselves out to our friend Jonathan's pool on Saturday.

He was spending the day doing yard work, and asked if we could pick up a friend of his on our way.

So we brought the friend. And our laundry. Because our dryer situation, it is not yet resolved. Not because of disagreement. But rather because everyfuckingthing this year is at least five goddamn times harder than it has to be.

Jonathan, he is family. I have known him since I was born. He's the one who organized the bagpiper for my dad's memorial.

Come to think of it, he's the one who took the mandals picture.

He's also the best host you can imagine.

So we called and said, "Hi, can we come swim in your pool? And can we bring our sheets and towels and do laundry? Oh, and since we have no idea where in god's name we've packed them, can we use your beach towels? And will you hang out with us while we're there?"

And he was all, absolutely! And I'll give you beverages and snacks and suntan lotion!

It was spec-tac-ular.

The pool is in the sun, with these lovely slate tiles around it. And on the side is a hot tub is raised above it, made of the same slate. It cascades water into the pool. Gorgeous.

It was the first time in months that I have felt great. Not just OK, but great. Lithe and agile and just fantastic.

We swam, we paddled, we floated, we lounged in the sun.

And then we got in the hot tub. We turned on the jets but no heat, so as not to cook the kid. Being shallow and in the sun, it was slightly warm. Much like being in a kiddie pool you know nobody has peed in.

Nick and I floated, and they sat on the side, feet in, drinking beer and chatting.

So somewhere along the way we started talking about water and boats and pool maintenance and hot tubs.

Nick said he'd had a hot tub at his place in Alabama.

And even though I like to think I'm not a jealous person, I don't really want to dwell on his dating shenanigans. Plus I envision his life in Alabama to be kind of cheesy, and so of course, all the women are too.

This is grounded in absolutely nothing. It's just because I am bitchy like that.

So I was internally rolling my eyes all, of course you did.

And then he told us his hot tub dating strategy.

He'd invite women over for a third or fourth date, and he'd tell them he was making fajitas. And this stream of women, they would always show up with Coronas or Dos Equis to go with fajitas.

And they'd have a couple beers - Mexican! so exotic! - and he'd take them on a house tour, and then they'd be all "Ooh! A hot tub!"

In my vague recollection, after some liquor a hot tub always seems like a better idea than it actually is. So I could totally see this.

He'd feign surprise at their enthusiasm, and suggest they get in. But the only thing was, he'd say, unfortunately, you simply couldn't wear clothing in the hot tub. Because it would clog the filter.

Nick was clearly delighted with himself. He was all, "It always worked!"

At the same time I was all, "It's a lie? I thought it was about the fibers and detergent?! And delicate filtration system??"

"Oh, Lis. Sweetie."


  1. I'd say you won that battle, albeit inadvertently.

    And, um, sorry. I peed in the pool.

  2. Revenge is a dish best served with a Corona, at least thirty minutes before submerging oneself in a delicately-filtered hot tub.

    Well-played, milady.

  3. Did he make guacamole? Now that is some crazy times right there.

    That being said, I have fallen for a lot worse.

  4. LiLu - Dude, of course you did. Well, it was nice and warm.

    Dagny - Hahaha! I love how you put that. It wasn't what I was aiming for, but I do think it evened things a bit.

    Lemmonex - I didn't think to ask, but I doubt it.

    And yah, so have I. But I seriously never questioned the filters.

  5. But this is why it's good that you're having a boy ... Nick can teach him all the manipulative ways to get chicks naked and you can attest to their effectiveness. If you were having a girl, I'm pretty sure karma would ensure that she was constantly getting naked and going in boys' hot tubs.

  6. Ahh, hot tub memories. Reminds me of the late night pool parties we used to have at our apartment complex in Chapel Hill. At 2 a.m. hearing "Lets go swimming" is like a Siren's song.

  7. My thoughts reading this post where: Nick lived in Alabama? Yay, Lisa had a great weekend! Oh, I've fallen for worse.

  8. P.S Were. Not where. Monday!

  9. Hahaha! That sounds exactly like something I would fall for.

  10. Hillary - This is precisely why so many fathers are so strict with their daughters. It's totally unfair.

    FoggyDew - Ah, I was only in an apartment for a semester, and alas, there was no pool. And I'm sure it's all for the best that the Kappa house didn't have one either.

    HKW - It's all good. Mondays are hard. And yah, years in Alabama. That's where he got his southern accent.

    A.S. - Totally plausible, no?

  11. hot tubs always sound so dirty to me

    ... i need more friends with pools, it sounds delightful!

  12. Ahhh the good old hot tub manouver. I do wonder how much time these men spend plotting and making up stories to get some naked flesh happening on a date.
    Sadly my dad warned his 3 daughters about all the things a guy would say to get what he wanted so of course when anyone tried a line on me I used to say
    "Hmmm my dad said guys would say that, and he said it was a lie too" Smart man my dad lol.

  13. Hot tubs in hotels always freaked me out. It's like a big bowl of random people's dead skin cell soup.

  14. I have, too, have fallen for that line. Not in Alabama.

  15. hmm... hot tubs are wonderful. I should use ours more... though I'm not sure I'd have the guts to use that line.

  16. people with pools better expect that friends will invite themselves over :)


Tell me about it.