Somehow, I knew this was a bad decision.
I knew it as I slithered into my bathing suit and looked at the clock.
I knew it as I glanced at my phone and decided not to let anyone know where I was going.
I knew it as I stepped into a world that was the grayish blue of dusk.
It was a July evening in North Texas, still in the 90s, and a dip in the pool sounded like the most refreshing end to a weekday. I had just finished my evening walk and scoped out the situation. The occupants of the pool had finally retired so I could have it all to myself.
Crossing through the gate, I set my towel and apartment keys on an empty chair. Then I stepped into the water.
Cue the Jaws theme music.
The night air was full of the shrieking of cicadas as closed-curtained apartments stared down at me. As I moved farther into the 5 ft. deep water, I began to wonder at what point the area lights would click on. Maybe leaving my cell phone behind hadn’t been a good idea.
Aren’t I reenacting a horror movie? I thought. Lone girl…swimming in a lake…something lurks in the waters.
Growing more uncomfortable by the moment, I decided I’d just dunk under the water and then go home. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and launched out in a type of underwater breaststroke.
Bam! My face connected with the pool wall.
I came up spluttering. I didn’t realize I would make it so far with one breath!
As I climbed out of the pool, blood started coming from somewhere. I hurried back to my apartment fervently hoping I hadn’t just broken my nose.
As I spent the rest of the evening with ice on my nose and my raw knuckles bathed in ointment, I came to a conclusion: maybe what I had been feeling earlier wasn’t women’s intuition after all. Maybe it had simply been common sense. 🙂
Angela's Anecdotes 