Fodder for my own Blog

I know I frequently tell tales of the characters and mishaps at the pool and now to prove that I can take as well as I can dish I am going to write about myself because if I witnessed it I would blog about it. I am fair game.

The hot tub at my apartment complex is my new hangout. For those who know what I am talking about the Jacuzzi is my new “living room.” For those who do not know, think CHEERS but BYOB.

Sitting in bubbling hot water, we drink and share stories. Cocktailing in the hot tub requires skill. You need to manage the cooler, opener, towel and if inclined cigarettes.

The quality of character elevates in the late night spa. We have PhD’s and multiple master’s degrees. One friend refers to me as 139 (my IQ) and I call him 141. I am engaged it witty banter and clever conversation. I feel safe to be self-expressed.

Well, last Saturday proved to be extremely comical. I was hanging with my neighbor when I met a whole new crew of Newport Village inhabitants. With my gift to talk to anyone, I engaged and had a blast while enjoying beers. Told by one heavily tatted guy why I should not get a tramp stamp to trying to engage with is his girlfriend who would not be upset if he called her a cunt but would slap him upside the head if he called her a bitch.

However, I provided the best moment of the evening.

Yep. Me.

I became a character in my blog.

I go to open my last beer in my cooler.

L.A.S.T B.E.E.R!

I open it and it flies into the hot tub. Before anyone can say anyone, I dive under water to rescue my beer. I stay under searching for the beer. Oh, wait I need air. Up and deep breath….I will not let the last one go to waste. Down again. I can see the bottle even though the bright light of the tub glares in my eyes. Need to go up again. Inhale and under again. Ok, between the chlorine and the light I find it difficult to locate this beer. Wait. WAIT. I put my hand around it.

I emerge out of the tub and into the air holding the beer high, like a trophy. I salvaged my beer.

I declare, “It doesn’t taste at all like chlorine and it is still cold.”

If diving for beer in a Jacuzzi was an Olympic Sport I would bring home the Gold….

Feel free to comment.

In other news, I had a Robert the “Not Man” sighting today at the pool. He donned a black t-shirt (which he removed to “get some rays), dark blue jeans, a black belt, black socks and…brown shoes. Complete with plumbers crack.