I don’t go to a pool, lake or beach with the intention of swimming. Getting wet is overrated and I personally never need to pull up a wet bathing suit after peeing ever again.
I go to the beach/lake/pool for the culture surrounding it (read: the food).
Growing up, strawberry shortcake ice cream bars were the height of luxury—and tasted the best after a salty Hebrew National hot dog or a tuna fish sandwich with Cape Cod Chips lodged inside. And why choose? Have both! A fun tip: go ahead and set aside some Cape Cod Chips to top off your hot dog. A masterpiece of a meal:
Being by (not in) the water (as long as its not a swim class, I should be very clear about that) gives me a feeling of possibility and a comfort with the unknown. A beach day means that everyone is committed to sitting and essentially doing nothing and what a blessing that is. Water flows, time feels endless, and we’re taken away from our typical day-to-day. And as a kid, that meant I was also away from my usual food landscape. This fact is the top contributor to my water-based existential lightness—and eating food in a swimming scenario is a win-win. You have to wait like, what, 10 minutes before you can swim after eating? Just keep eating! To me, the pool is simply a food carnival that happens to have a pool.
As a kid, I’d humor my friends at the start of our water adventure and pretend to enjoy swimming with them. While they jumped in with glee, I’d torture myself by slowly walking into whatever body water we were visiting that day.
Water is always ice cold (who likes this????). I’d then submit to a couple rounds of underwater tea party, old white man wig hair flip, and hand stands. Then I would just wait. Wait until one friend eventually would say “ok, I’m getting cold” (only now???) and that they were ready to get out. THANK GOD. My hands have become unrecognizable and I need to lay.
As a teen, going to the pool was about nodding in and out of sleep with my iPod as I crafted specific and titillating story lines that ended with me kissing my crush after he tearfully professed his love for me.
As an adult, I am still fond of a good daydream, but my reasoning for loving a good poolside lay is that ultimately bathing suits ask too much of me. It pains me to say/admit this, but to wear one comfortably I must address my bikini line. I know, I know, I should be over this but I’m a human and I’m being honest and I’m not there yet. And you should probably also know that my pubes don’t just exist at the edges of my bikini line. They’re not gently peering out. I’m not dealing with a whimsical whisper of pubes. My bikini line is active and lively, dancing 2.5-3 inches beyond the parameters of my bathing suit. I see children screaming when I imagine letting my bush on the loose and I’m working on that. But in the meantime, the truth is that I either have to invest $65+ to get waxed or carve out at least one hour to do it myself (which will end in a full body wax because once I’m committed and I’ve got the time, it’s kind of fun?) and I resent that.
Whenever I tell myself to ignore my hairy little situation, I end up walking around with my hands in front of my upper thighs trying to convince myself I look normal. Gorgeous, pathetic, pointless, we love. It’s too much mental energy.
So instead, I stick to the best part of the pool experience from the outset: the post-swim feeling of being wrapped in a towel in the sun, the hot dog, the strawberry shortcake ice cream, the dozing in and out of sleep.
Ok so we all had the exact same pool experience as a kid??????
ALSO WHY ARE BATHING SUIT BOTTOMS NOT SHORTS
I KNOW that walking in slowly is worse than jumping in but I'm gonna do it anyway