The other day, while my back was turned and I was asking the sales clerk a question, a small round man absconded with my shopping cart. He just grabbed it and scurried away like a fat hungry weasel with a juicy chicken. So for all the fat hungry weasels in the world, here’s my New Years etiquette rant.
There is no passing in lap swimming. When you share a lane you really have only two choices. 1) Spit the lane or 2) Share the lane. When you share the lane don’t pass, because until they invent underwater rearview mirrors, I have no idea that you are coming.
There is no mid-lane parking in swimming. If you are halfway down the lane, you should either be swimming or recovering from a cramp. Save the “my cat barfed-up the biggest hairball last night” discussion for the hot tub.
There is no underwater treasure in the pool. I know that you can find the some of the strangest stuff at the bottom of the pool. From old gum to funky hairballs to water soaked Band-Aids to what I hope are dead bugs and small creatures of all sorts to much funkier stuff. Don’t point this out to me. I’ve also seen the dead furry thing out of the corner of my eye and I’m also trying to keep my lips closed as hard as possible.