THE MAN IN THE POOL

Hello hi,

I hope your Holiday/Christmas season is going well. As I promised, I have another blogpost - the last one before the new year. I hope you've read my previous posts; if not, please check them out. Below is a new post, I hope you will enjoy it :)

THE MAN IN THE POOL

As 2019 is drawing to an end, I cannot help but think about my goals I had listed for the year, what I have achieved and what I have not. “Learning how to swim” was a goal that I had be carrying over since 2016; possibly way before then. I had taken classes before – group lessons, lessons with friends, and lessons with random strangers in the pool trying to help me, but I was still inept at swimming. This year, I had planned to enroll in a private swimming class but I had an August visitor; I mean this in both literal senses, as actually a very special guest visited me in August and during the whole summer. Therefore, I did not have enough time to take on extra activities as I had to do some tour guidance. However, this post is not about this year but rather about the year before – 2018. Ah oui, 2018 was the year I was sure that I would achieve my swimming goals for several reasons.

First of all, I had just finished taking group swim classes. I did not learn much from the classes as they were each thirty minute sessions, with eight students in them and one teacher. So of course, before the teacher could go from one person to another, the class would be over. Nonetheless, I had developed more confidence being in the pool despite my swimming techniques remaining amateur, if at all existent. This was still a great progress for me, as every non-swimmer knows that the fear of the pool is the beginning of drowning. Okay, I just made that up but I’m sure you understand what I mean. So after the group class, I had developed more ‘ginger’ (the zeal to learn) and got myself some prescription swim goggles, better swim caps, and sexier swimsuits. I went as often as possible to the pool by myself while awaiting the perfect time for me to make the next step, which was to take a bunch of private lessons. The perfect time came shortly afterwards, in the summer when I had cut my hair. Now there was no need to for me to think about long hair wash and drying after swimming, or even to cover my hair in the pool if I did not feel like it. Alas, I was finally ready!

I was now living in a new city and had to find a swim instructor. Just like I did when I took my driving lessons the year before, my plan was to find a cheap instructor who would teach me and then, I would later quickly polish my skills with a professional swimmer, if needed. In case you don’t know this about me, I am frugal. So I went online – Kijiji and Craigslist to search for someone who would hopefully be cheaper than what I had seen advertised on the websites of gyms and sports centres. Unfortunately, my new gym did not have a pool so I would have had to register in another gym and pay as well, to be able to use their instructors. I eventually found someone online who claimed to be a swimming champion in his home country. I contacted him and booked our first lesson after bargaining and settling on a good first lesson promo price. We planned to meet the next weekend in a public swimming pool not too far from my house.

I was by the pool in my swimsuit, five minutes before the set time. I knew he was already there as he had texted me when he got there, and so I tried to find him. There were already a few people in the pool although it was not yet packed. My eyes immediately caught the swift movement of one the swimmers; I watched as the fellow swam towards me, impressed by his dolphin kicks but still not sure if that was my new teacher. Finally, he rose from the pool, and brushed his dark hair away from his face as the water fell across his toned physique. His body reminded me a bit of Michael Phelps and I tried not to stare lustfully. At least, if that was my teacher, I knew he was not lying about knowing how to swim. I just hoped that he would also know how to teach. As my mind wondered within seconds, he looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back; he was my teacher.

I got into the pool after we exchanged pleasantries and the lesson started immediately.

“So show me what you can do” He demanded.

“Erm, I can’t really do much” I said, losing confidence in myself after having watched him previously swim like a fish.

I showed him my naïve ways of floating, kicking, and pushing myself off the edge of the pool. My breathing technique under the water was close to abysmal and so we began working on that. Afterwards, we worked on kicking and hand stroke movements. He was a very good teacher, with lots of encouragement and patience, and I was thoroughly impressed. We practised and practised, taking short breaks in between whenever I needed one. While on my breaks, Mike would swim a lap; I could tell that he really enjoyed being in the pool.

In the course of the lesson, I learnt more about him. His name was Mike and he was originally from Lebanon, and had only recently moved into the city, just like me. He was currently living with his elder sister and her husband, while studying for a University degree. So as to make some extra pocket money, he had decided to start teaching swimming. Unfortunately, he lived far away from the pool and so would not be able to come during the week days. We discussed more on my future payments; if I agreed to take a package of ten classes with him, then he would be happy to keep it at the same initial cost. He was confident that I would be a good independent swimmer by the tenth class and I was convinced. So we struck a deal for ten lessons, same pool, same time every weekend unless otherwise stated, and the money to be paid at the end of each class.  

Time went by, quickly for Mike as he wanted to continue swimming, but slowly for me as I felt exhausted. I was taking an Uber home and since my house was not far from a train station, I offered to give him a ride. He accepted my offer and I gave him fifteen more minutes to swim before we finally left the pool. We sat on a bench whilst waiting for the Uber driver who appeared to be lost, as the app showed him continuously taking wrong turns. During that time, Mike and I made small talk. We both discovered that we were single and waiting for the “right one and the right time”. He mentioned how he would like to get a place of his own rather than living with his sister, so as to have more privacy. I nodded my head in understanding; privacy was important if you could afford it. The Uber driver finally arrived and in a few minutes, we were in front of my apartment building. I described the way to the train station from my house to Mike and asked him to let me know if he had any problems finding it. Then, we said our goodbyes.

An hour later, after having what I considered to be a rewarding meal for all my swimming exercise, I texted Mike to find out if he got home okay. He said he did and thanked me for being kind enough to check up on him. “It was my pleasure”, I wrote, and “see you next weekend.” I was not expecting any response so I kept my phone aside and took a nap.

I woke up to a text message from Mike; he was complaining about his living situation with his sister. He said he really wanted to find a place urgently but could not afford one by himself at the moment. I suggested that he could find housemates to share with for a start, as that would make things cheaper and later on, he could find a private place when he had enough money.

“Or I could come and live with you”, he replied via text.

I laughed while responding “LOL”. I did not know that he also had some sense of humour; good for him.

“Is that a ‘Yes’?” He asked.

“What? No. I thought you were joking”. I replied, a bit confused.

“Why not? I thought you said you live alone.”

I was now even more confused and seriously hoped that he was just pulling my legs.

“Yeah, I live alone because I don’t want to live with anyone. Also, I don’t know you; we just met today”. I replied in hope that that would end the conversation but…

 “Well, it starts from one day to get to know each other.” He continued. “You seem like a nice girl so I would not mind getting to know you. You also said you are single or do you want to remain lonely? I would teach you swimming for free”

Now, I was beginning to get worried. I mean, this dude knew where I lived and even though he did not know my exact apartment number, what if he was turned out to be a stalker? In person, he did not seem to be a creep and he had been an excellent teacher. So I did not want to lose him as my instructor if I could help it. Therefore, I had to find a way to end this rubbish; I replied:

“I’m sorry if I gave you any wrong impression but as I told you earlier, I CANNOT live with you. So I hope we can end this conversation now and continue our swimming lessons in a nice but professional manner. Do you think you can manage that?” I asked.

“Okay.” That was all he typed.

Phew! I was relieved, even though I could not help but wonder why he would have thought I was interested in him. Had it been because I offered him a ride in my Uber, or the small talks we had had during and after swimming? I could not recall having any flirtatious body language during my stay with him. Maybe it was because I had told him that I was single and so he automatically assumed that it meant I was available to every single man? Or was it because I checked to see if he got home safe? This was something I always did with everyone, whether male or female. I shook my head; the dude was probably drunk, or having a bad day, and just trying his luck. Anyway, I would just have to wait until the next week to reassess the situation during our class and see if I would still be comfortable continuing lessons with him.

The next weekend approached so I texted Mike on Friday.

“Hi, are we still on for tomorrow at 10 am?”

“Who is this?” he responded.

I could not help laughing; this guy must be a petty fellow, I thought to myself. On a second thought, maybe he changed his phone. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and so I replied telling him who I was. His response was cold but funny; he was demanding double the price we had agreed on. There was no need for me to reply, I just blocked and deleted his number. Weirdo, I whispered to myself.

And that was how my swimming for the year came to an end. I had had enough experience for the year for me to go back searching online. I tried to contact some of the professional gym instructors but their schedules did not match mine. Soon enough, winter came by and even though I could have done indoor swimming lessons, the thought of going out even slightly wet in the cold was scary. I would sign up next summer (2019), I told myself but as I wrote earlier, that did not happen. I definitely hope to learn next year 2020 by God’s grace but until then, I cannot help but blame that man in the pool.

Wishing you a happy holiday season!! Don’t forget to leave a comment under the post, like and share the post, and follow me on Instagram (@ugochiukah) and twitter (@vivio_gogo) for updates. Look out for my new blog instragram page. Until next year, by God's grace, kisses. X