I want to preface this post with a few warnings:
1. Every word is true. And that scares me.
2. I am extremely naive and this may all be so 5 minutes ago for you.
3. I plan on stalking some strangers.
I walk my giant poodle, Zyk, every morning. We walk the 3/4 mile to Lakewood Park, then head to the bluff overlooking lovely, fragrant Lake Erie. I sit on a bench and play with my phone. Zyk immediately flops down on the grass and takes a 15 minute nap because he is super lazy. While I was sitting there, I sorta vaguely noticed these women walk by. There were three of them and they were having heated conversation about scrap-booking. I probably snorted because, I mean, come on. Have a real conversation about meaningful things. Take me and my brother Dan. We talk about real world issues and try to find solutions. For example, these days all we talk about is our current research regarding frame by frame comparisons of both the original movie Alien and the newly released trailer for the prequel Prometheus. It's hard, time consuming work, but we feel it's important if we are going to spend our time wisely before the movie comes out in June. And FYI, frame 53 will rock your world.
So, when Zyk's nap time was over we finished a loop of the park and were heading to the exit when the same women came back around the park loop, heading towards us. Let me give you a mental image. They were as average as you can get. Age range probably between 36 and 45. Supposedly out walking for exercise but talking way too much to walk fast. Between them there were:
1. one fanny pack
2. one set elastic mommy slacks
3. one tennis visor
When they were about 17ft away, Zyk became fascinated with sniffing a random clump of grass and peeing on it with great enthusiasm. So I moved aside to let the ladies walk by. They were talking loudly and I overheard this chunk of their conversation. For clarity, I will refer to these women respectively as Tall, Chubby Pony Tail and Mom Pants.
Chubby Pony Tail: "I mean, it just got weird. I tried to talk to them, but now it's weird and I'm not sure what to do next time."
Tall: "Listen, honey. We like to swing too, sometimes. Who doesn't? But the mistake you made, and I hate to say I told you so, is that you don't do it with people you love. You do it with strangers. You don't do it with family. Period."
Mom Pants: (nodding)
Chubby Pony Tail: "Yeah, I know, but I keep thinking after the next time it will sorta get better... I want it to work and I thought they did too..."
Their voices trailed off as they moved away. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. I wanted to run after them and beg, "Please! I have to know! When you say family, are we talking cousins or like your in-laws? And when you say "next time" do you have, like, a schedule? And what's with the visor's and mom pants? I imagined swingers would be sexier! Like male fantasy lesbians! Come back!"
Maybe all this is yesterday's news to you. I do live in a bubble of my own creation. I can tell you this: I totally plan to stalk these women at the park and walk slowly behind them and hear what else they have to say. I learned the first rule of Swing Club this week: You don't swing with people you love. I look forward to returning to my bubble. I'm a little freaked out.
~dana
