Pool Time, in the Dead of Winter
Tales from the Gym
When I was a boy, sometimes my dad would get up at 5:00 AM to go swim at the San-Fernando wharf in beautiful, tropical, Caribbean, Trinidad. Sometimes on these balmy mornings, he’d take me and my brother with him for a swim before we went to school. When we got there, he’d leave us to play in the shallow water, and he would put on his trusty flippers, and swim out into the deep. The ole’ man would disappear for half an hour, then swim back in, and take our sandy butts back home to get ready for school.
Now I get up, it’s dark black outside, foreboding as a mutha at 5:00 AM, in the dead of cold ass winter, to go swim in the gym-pool. BRUH! It’s not the same.
And Cologne-man in the lane next to mine in the pool. What devil’s potion is this, that overpowers the chlorine? The winter solstace hates me.
