Stop bothering me

Last week, my best friend, Lucy, and I decided to start doing aquatic exercises. We’ve been working out for about an hour to an hour and 10 minutes each day we go. Today Lucy wasn’t feeling well so she didn’t want to go. For a brief second I thought, “Well, if she’s not going to go then I’m not going.” How codependent is that? That thought quickly fled my mind. I’m not doing this for Lucy and I am fully capable of doing things on my own. I don’t need to have someone do things with me in order to get them done. A few years ago I wouldn’t have been able to do this. I HATED doing things by myself and because of that, I missed out on a lot of things in life. These days, I can go places and do things all on my own and enjoy them in the process.  

However, today I went on my own and did not enjoy it one bit. I ended up cutting my workout in half and was so irritated by the time I left. Let me explain why…

Though I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own, I absolutely HATE when old men stare at me or try to make conversation with me. Now I’m no supermodel nor am I some raving beauty that men throw themselves at. I have been raised to have manners and class (which sometimes I forget in the heat of the moment) and I treat people the way I want to be treated. So, when someone tries to make conversation with me, I have a difficult time being rude or ignoring them. I wish I had it in me to be rude and just cut someone short so it ends quickly but that doesn’t seem to happen in my case.

The pool was a bit crowded today so I decided to start my walking by only walking half the length of the lane instead of the full length. As I was first making my way to the opposite end of the pool, I passed an elderly man (well into his late 80’s) who said, “We have to stop meeting like this.” I laughed and said, “Well, it’s possible we’ll meet a few more times.”, and continued on my way to the other end. Then I started doing my little routine while he sat at the other end watching me. So unnerving but I just kept walking. After about 10 minutes, he came down to my end of the pool. As he was approaching, I made my turn and started walking back. He almost shouted, “Hey, I want to talk to you!” UGH! So I turned to him and said, “Yes?”

Here we go…

Him: “So are there any others like you at home?”

Me: “Nope, I’m the only one.”

Him: “There are no others?”

Me: “Nope, just me?”

Him: “What about your boyfriend?”

Me: “Oh, well he’s not like me at all.”

I kept walking and when I turned around to walk back he was there waiting to carry on with the conversation. Damn it!

Him: “So are you married?’

Me: “Nope.”

Him: “What? You’re not married?”

Me: “Nope.” Walking down and back again.

Him: “Why aren’t you married?”

Me: “Are you married?” I asked this because I was pretty sure he was going to say yes and I wanted to blast him with some sort of nasty remark about being sure his wife wouldn’t appreciate his flirting ways.

Him: “Yep, been married 67 years.”

Me: “Nice.” Walking away. Oh how I wish I had it in me to be rude!

Him: “Wait, I want to talk to you about marriage.”

Me: “What about marriage?”

Him: “You need to have someone special in your life. You really don’t want to get old and just sit around all alone and watch TV the rest of your life.”

Me: “I have my children.”

Him: “Oh, so you have been married?”

Me: “Yep.” Walking away.

Now I had several smart-ass comments I could have said throughout this whole conversation but good manners dictated that I keep my mouth shut and be pleasant. OH VEY!

The day before yesterday, while Lucy and I were at the pool, what seemed like a very nice gentleman was walking in the same lane as we were and in passing us he said, “You two ladies have the nicest personalities in this whole gym.” I laughed and said, “Thank you” and we kept walking. A few minutes later Lucy informed me that he was watching me. Yep, everywhere I went, he was watching me. I HATE THAT!

Then, to top off my irritating pool workout that I cut short, I went out to my car and someone had parked so close to me that I could not even forcibly squeeze myself into my driver-side door. Oh I was peeved! Cursing and wishing Karma to slap them in the face, I entered the passenger side door and crawled over the console into the driver seat, twisting my bad shoulder and pinching my already pinched lower back. Took me the drive home to get over myself.

All in a day’s workout.

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