It’s been a crazy few weeks, especially at work. I haven’t been able to work out my typical 5-7 days a week. Instead, it’s been more like once or twice a week, if I’m lucky. And by lucky, I mean, if Justin is around on weekends to watch the kids so I can go for a super slow run. I am so, so slow.
I also have to add that nothing about me has changed. I haven’t gained 100lbs, or something weird like that. If anything, I’ve probably lost a little weight, simply from an increase in stress, and a decrease in time to eat (well, ok. I did have ice cream for lunch one day last week. Don’t judge me).
Yesterday, while running up and down stairs to the office I currently occupy, I was called over to the side of the pool by a woman who comes in and does water aerobics nearly every day. I thought for sure she was going to make a comment about me only teaching once this past week. Boy, was I mistaken:
“Sam! Are your pants too small?”
Um…I’m slightly confused, but don’t worry, it’s about to get so much better.
“I’ve never seen you with a belly!”
I pull the waist of my workout pants up, tucking my gut, and the extra skin riddled with stretch marks, back into the confines of the spandex (for the record, it was well hidden under my shirt). “Oh, I’ve always had a belly. I just hide it well.”
“Well, I’ve never noticed you having a belly before! You came down the stairs, and I thought, ‘oh my gosh, is she pregnant?!'”
Excuse me, what?! “Oh, no no no. No more babies for me. I’m done having babies.” I smile and walk away, sucking in my gut the entire way back up the stairs.
Did that just happen?!
When I told a co-worker about what was just said, he nearly spit his drink out as he burst out laughing. “It’s not funny,” he responded, “but, I mean, it kind of is.”
This woman is notorious for being nasty to the lifeguards. In fact, there are quite a few senior women who feel as though they are allowed to be disrespectful, simply because the lifeguards are young. Normally, I am not the one on the receiving end of their nasty attacks–obviously because I’m old. Or at least much older than the average lifeguard. I am constantly telling the kids working, “they would be horrified if any of you spoke to them they way they speak to you.”
Has no one taught them manners?! Or have they decided that they’re too cool–or perhaps too old–for manners. These women complain frequently about disrespectful millennials. Yet, they can saunter over to me with a grouchy face and say, “excuse me? Whose music is this?? Do you realize we are old?? Can’t you put it on Golden Oldies, or something like that?!” My response was, “of course I can!” But as I walk away to put something else on, I think, “‘C’mon N’ Ride It (The Train)’ is over 20 years old. It’s older than most of the lifeguards!” Who in the world walks into an exercise class and immediately complains about the music!?
Perhaps these women have just been catered too for entirely too long. Or they have too much time on their hands. Or NO ONE EVER TAUGHT THEM MANNERS!
I suggest we spend a week speaking to them the way they speak to us. The complaints we would receive wouldn’t be worth it. But where can we send our complaints about nasty patrons??
The girl guarding during my interaction with little miss “are you pregnant,” later said to me, “What the fuck was that about!? You handled that so well, cuz I probably would’ve kicked her in the face!” Dang, why didn’t I think to kick her!? Her face was perfectly located at foot level. But, alas. My momma taught me manners. She also taught me to kill them with kindness.
So, it’s fine. It’s whatever. I’ll keep my “I carried 2 babies” belly safely hidden behind the confines of some good quality spandex. And I’ll keep smiling and saying, “good morning,” while I think, “what a bratty old hag.”