The Pool

Today was special. Not in a I lost my virginity to a one-eyed Mexican whore kind of way, but memorable nonetheless. Mother asked me to accompany her and the little brother to the pool. Mom and I usually do not spend time with one another, unless food or work is involved, so this was a very important milestone. I was actually looking forward to spending time with my two least favorite immediate family members (out of possible three), but as I should have will known, when Bob feels a pang of familial love it is a harbinger of disaster.

The actual trip to the pool went well and involved the usual small talk about my inability to get a date and my little brother Issy's desire to punch me in the balls. Being fairly immune to such conversation, I felt pretty positive about our upcoming swim. Upon arriving I was surprised to see only a half dozen cars in the parking lot. I immediately rationalized that most pool-goers are adolescents dropped off by their absentee parents, so I wasn't too worried. After paying the cute little Asian girl, who reminded me of Lotus Blossom, we ventured towards the pool.

There were, at best, thirty people there, which included the lifeguards, making my earlier rationalization ring false - who needs a bunch of nymph like twelve year old girls to have a good time at the pool? Not I, I say, not I. However, soon thereafter something very troublesome became apparent. I, Robert Kyle Wilson, was the fattest person at the pool.

Now, I am used to being the fat guy in a small, intimate setting, yet to actually be the most obese person at a public pool is a little much even for me. Of course, there were plenty of chubby mother's wearing ill fitting bathing attire, and I took solace in their beached whale appearance; nonetheless, I still had a good fifty pounds on any of these domestic behemoths. Issy didn't help matters as he took great delight in pointing out that I was fatter than everyone else.. All I could think of was, Et tu, McDonald's, et tu.

After coming to terms with my position as fattest guy at the pool, I jumped in and took a little swim. Or, at least that was the plan. The moment my ample flesh touched the pool a numbing coldness blanketed my entire being. In other words, it was a wee bit nippy in there. I could barely draw a breath, more less swim, so I opted for none of the above and hauled my ass out of there and back to the warm embrace of my ruffled, pink towel.

It now made sense why the parking lot was empty and only a couple dozen people were there, because only an idiot, and/or my mother, would deem it fit to swim in a sub seventy degree temperatures with a heavy overcast blocking out any relief from the sun.. I am ashamed to admit that my short sojourn into the pool shriveled my usually massive four and half inches down to one. It was that cold

As the day continued, my experience improved from abysmal to mildly disconcerted. A rather obese black man showed up and claimed my place as King Fat; I could only hope one day to have man teats like his. Eventually even the clouds parted, allowing the sun to heat pool to a lukewarm, semi-tolerable state. All was well with the world, until mother decided to engage the pretty young life guards in conversation.

If I have one bane in this world, it is attractive young ladies. I am putty in their hands, and also money in their pockets. Therefore, I strive to maintain a minimum of fifty yards from there presence, if only to prevent any unwarranted gifts of money and electronic devices, such as a pager. My mother is aware of my debilitating problem with women, she thinks it can be cured through public humiliation.. Her remedy is very simple, direct and crushing to my mental health.

The first step in her "final solution" is scoping out the most attractive woman in a given area. She then walks up to her and engages in small talk. After a few minutes of conversation, she bellows like a banshee just freed from hell: Get over here, NOW! Usually I run away at this point, opting to take cover behind a car, in a closet or behind a brazier display at Sears. But being at the public pool, with no available refuge and standing out like an albatross due to my position as King Fat in waiting, I had no where to go. Thus, I waddled over to her and listened as she tried to fix me up with a beautiful nineteen year old. Now, when I use the phrase fix me up what I mean to say is that she blatantly, in the most obtuse manner possible, states that I am single, live in a trailer, work for my parents, graduated from college with a worthless degree in religion, and am serious need of a date.

Surprisingly to no one but mom, this approach did not work. The lifeguard responded with a weak smile, stated she was already involved and quickly retreated to an empty chair across the pool. My already shriveled member managed to invert itself into my actual flesh, reminiscent of a baby kangaroo submerging into its mother's pouch. Of course,mom blamed me for the failure, I should have been able to speak up for myself. She also quipped it wouldn't hurt if I lost a little weight and got some sun. You could say she was kicking a man while he was down; but really, what worse can you do to guy whose testicles actually managed to rescinded into his stomach.

We left soon soon after, although not before Issy punched me in nuts.