Pool rules

I am not a good swimmer. I came to swimming late in life. As a result, there are (many) swim culture nuances and unspoken rules in which I am not fluent. It’s (highly) likely I unknowingly violate pool etiquette often.

However, I am Boricua of a certain (read: middle) age AND menopausal (coño, muy menopausal)—all of las caracteristicas that (admittedly) make me jodona. I am never a PIA (pain in the ass, a nickname bestowed upon me—with great laughter—by my dear friend who is a priest!!) without reason. (Rule #1: Siempre tengo toda la razón.) Lately, I have been feeling super crispy (a term used by Marrero women, from whom I am descended: imaginate electricity meets agua and you’ll understand the level of fried irritation that crispy is meant to communicate) by the behaviors of other swimmers who frequent the early morning adult lap swim session.

I am setting forth a few rules by which all swimmers should abide to avoid making this jodona ultra crispy.

Do not walk through the pool gate before me. I arrive early to the early morning adult lap swim session. Like 20 minutes early. I am always the first one standing outside the gate, sipping my black coffee, listening to the birds awaken and sing, watching the sky change colors and people taking their dogs out for the first walk of the day. I like to start my day in quiet contemplation and some days, it’s the only time I have where I am offline and can be alone with my many (mucho, mucho) thoughts. The benefit is that I also get to claim a lane first upon entering the pool building.

The lifeguards know I’m there early and give me my space, and also walk over to let me know when they’ve completed setting up and it’s cool for me to walk in. I get (muy) crispy when other swimmers arrive, walk right past me, SMILING, enter the pool building (as the lifeguards are still setting up) and claim lanes. Wtf?

I am not the meet-and-greet lady. (Giving voice to the thoughts that go through my mind would make that clear.) Such behavior makes me jodona, and I become that woman who has to hustle and negotiate for a lane (“…I arrived first…”, SMILING). I am considering asking the lifeguards to place an orange traffic cone at the head of my lane—labeled “La Nancy” to avoid confusion (and crispiness).

My next posting to Substack will focus on the next rule, aimed at those swimmers who mistake adult lap swim for aquatic mixed martial arts combat.

Hasta la proxima, dear readers.