Rules run Amuck

                                       Rules run Amuck

                                                

Mrs. C and I live in a townhouse community.  We pay monthly dues of around a billion dollars a month for snow removal, landscaping, outside maintenance to our homes and use of a swimming pool and two tennis courts.

In the ten years I have been here, no one has ever used the tennis courts.  We use the swimming pool about six times a year.

The other day Mrs. C went to the pool.  There was one lifeguard on duty. The pool has two sections, one section is four-foot-deep, the other section is maybe eight foot deep.  Mrs. C likes the eight-foot-deep section, but she does not swim, she does not let her hair get wet.  She either stands where it is only five-foot-deep, or floats on a foam noodle.

When she ventured into the “deep end” the lone guard admonished her that since there was “only” one guard on duty, no one was allowed in the “deep end.”

WTF!

Mrs. C complied but soon came home more than a bit miffed.

This is a small pool.  We are adults.  The only way an adult could be in danger in this pool is if they had a heart attack, or they were drunk and slipped and conked their head before landing in the pool.  Even then, one life guard should be able to drag the body six feet from the middle of the eight-foot-deep pool to safety.

Am I annoyed about this makeshift stupid as all crap rule?

Why yes…yes, I am!

Tomorrow we will be going to the pool.  I don’t really want to go to the pool, but we are going to the pool.  I only hope that the pimply-faced guard tries to tell me to not go into the “deep end” as there is “only” one guard on duty.

I passed my swim test sixty-six years ago, swimming 25 yards and back in a 25-foot-deep lagoon that had one-foot visibility.  I performed my test while my father sat on the back of a boat, cocktail in hand telling me, “I’m pretty sure you can do it!”

And I did.  

I'm pretty sure I can handle an eight foot deep ten foot across swimming pool!

Sixty-six years later, I am not going to let a pimply-faced life guard tell me I can’t swim in the “deep end” of a pool that cost me a billion dollars a month in association dues.

Call the cops, call your supervisor, call the lawyers whom you say made the rule; call who ever you friggin want to call, but you will either get a second guard to make sure I don’t drown, or you will sit your pimply-faced-ass back down in your chair and shut the frig up, cause I am not going to cool my old ass off in the kiddy end of the pool.

Damn I hope there is only one guard, I am really fired up!