So, the people who get in the swimming pool after my aqua class are sort of awesome.
I may have mentioned the nice man who came running out with balloons to greet the two older women who come exercise in the outdoor pool after the cold winter has passed–and they were out there today.
One of the women is sort of a kick (okay–both of them are a kick, but only one of them is in her eighties and cut hair in a shop dominated by gay men forty years ago and loved them, one and all!) So she’s sort of a salty ol’ broad, and we were talking about Facebook and how cute animals came across our feed.
And I started talking about turtles while we were doing some deep water exercises.
And she was busting up!
“So, I gave all the porn kids in my stories pet turtles,” I said, “and then I found out about turtle penises–do you know about turtle penises? Turtle penises are gross–they’re huge black shiny flowers, and after the turtle finishes his business, sometimes they don’t go back, and you have to put sugar on them to make them go down, and then KY on them to make them go back and–“
“Yeah,” said the man who had brought the balloons. He was doing laps and passing us as he made his way around the pool. “That happens to me all the time.”
We all laughed so hard we almost drowned.
* * *
And that was not my only run-in with adorable elderly people today.
I was grocery shopping and studying the SHOCKING proliferation of Fiber One products (which is proof that it’s a good thing I find the elderly adorable, because I’m damned close to checking that demographic box) when a little old man–bent practically double over his cart– shuffled past me.
“Uh oh,” he said, and I turned to look at him. “I need to get past you or people will think we color coordinated on purpose.”
Sure enough, we were both wearing orange shirts and black pants.
“I wouldn’t mind being on your team at all, sir,” I said, adoring him.
It’s only right that I should.