Pool Fiction.

I just read this book today. T’was rather nice and is what I call “fluff you read by the pool”. So that’s exactly what I did. Yes, it was a productive day of reading by the pool and drinking enough ice tea and pop to drown an elephant. It’s my favorite kind of day... that in and of itself amazes me because I used to be rather active and uninterested in books. Then when life happened and I was forced to sit still for a while; I realized just how much I love to read... to fall into a story. So I plowed through online fiction years ago and now I’m even hunting down new things to read. Too bad I’m too cheap to buy a book, and our local library has more books involving drunken rhinos going duck hunting while singing incorrect lyrics to “Louie Louie”, than they do ones involving *gasp* two women in love.... in other words... none.

I’m not sure why reading by the pool is an important part of the whole process. Probably because I can feel like I got out of the house without actually having to get off my duff. It’s not like I was sunning myself or even self-consciously squeezing into a swimsuit... parish the thought. Because really... the more skin I show the more likelihood that I blind some poor passersby with my glaring lack of a tan. Really, I just like the background noise. It was even better because I was alone and didn’t have to worry about children splashing me, or me having to pretend like I’m an adult and say something like, “no running...”

I even took the time to go to Circle K (A local convenience store) to by a pop the size of a small Midwestern city. While there I had to wait in line, not something I normally mind. What did annoy me was the total moron that was holding up the line. He went to the cooler, took a 12-pack of pop, opened it to take out one can, and then proceeded to berate the clerk because she couldn’t ring him up. It’s bee a long time since I’ve seen our stores sell a can of pop. She wouldn’t even know how much to charge. This whole concept seemed way over his head. I, being annoyed and misguided, decided to just politely offer to buy the man a bottle of pop.... Anything to get him moving and me closer to poolside reading pleasures. This wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had. I should’ve known better.

He took me up on my offer. Hooray! One step closer to fluffy fiction....Not quite. He came storming back in after placing the bottle in his truck (a $50,000 truck I might add) ranting about how the price for bottles of pop would lead to the downfall of man... down with government! This was all just a nefarious way for Circle K to gouge customers into parting with their hard earned money. He then pointed to me. Oh goodie. It seemed I was a corporate plant sent in to move the process of Circle K’s world dominance along. Granted I am just summarizing and trying to put together what exactly he was saying, it’s hard to tell with alla that spittle flying at me and the arms waving franticly in the air. Now in steps the hero of the story. Well you wouldn’t know she was a hero by looking at her, but she was.

She had ripped jeans, a little purple streak in her hair, a few tattoos, and strangely not a bit of spandex normally associated with a hero. She slammed the case of beer she was holding on the counter, placing the change she had hunted around in her car to pay for it on top, and squared off with the lunatic. They then got in a verbal battle that the lunatic was severely outmatched for. Everyone else was sitting idly by while the man yelled at me and the clerk. Everything we were saying was doing no good, but they watched in fascination. She wasn’t interested in hearing this any longer. She talked rather calmly to him and just charmed him into stopping his tirade for the most part. Unfortunately, at one point when he saw he was losing ground, he grabbed the condiment tray for the hot dogs and flung it at me. Of course it hit me. I thought about ducking, but never quite got around to it. Next thing I know the woman had escorted him out and I was sporting a lovely ensemble of ketchup, relish, and onions. The color really matched my eyes if I do say so myself.

Anyway, to make a long story a tad shorter, the woman left with a hardy thank you and some free beer courtesy of evil institution set on world domination, better knowing as Circle K. I left a little more fragrant and a lot more eager to enjoy my quiet pool time. So what I remember about the day really isn’t the lunatic, but a person that didn’t have to get involved but chose to. She didn’t stoop to his level, but she talked him down. What I was saying back only made the man more enraged, and really in this day and age something like this could have turned out a lot worse. Only the pickles were harmed here. I’m not saying I was scared, because I really wasn’t. But then again you never really know. So often now people won’t get involved for whatever reason. They just don’t care anymore... but then sometimes they do. I’m glad for those who do... even if it getting involved is as simple as showing common courtesy or voting in elections. The point is that the people that are willing are a hero, if for only a moment.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” -- Oscar Wilde (Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892)