Saturday, August 05, 2006
Early this evening I arrived at the pool to swim laps, but had to wait on the bleachers until a lane opened up. Erstwhile I read a library book, glancing up occasionally to gauge lane availability, and at an early point caught sight of Der Grair Bär, who entered and sat at a farther end of the bleachers perpendicular to mine. Natürlich hat er mich geseht, weil ich immer wieso ein "sore thumb" stehe aus. We played an unspoken game of "if-I-pretend-not-to-notice-the-other-person-perhaps-the-other-person-will-not-see-me".
I think I won, though. Der Grair Bär always makes the point of coming by the Flinstone bench to frighten me speechless with such complicated German as "Wie geht es bei dir?" and "Was lesen wir heute?" As I sat primly in my black-and-purple swimming suit, eyes squinted nearly shut against the dangerously intense Lubbock sun and sweat dripping down my face, chest, and back, I hid the self-satisfied smirk on my face with my book as I thought to myself, Come "Guten Tag" me in your swimming trunks, Dr. Grair- I dares ya.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:33 PM]