The Pool
Today was special. Not the "I lost my virginity to a Mexican whore" kind of special, but memorable nonetheless. Mother asked me to accompany her and the little brother to the pool. Mom and I usually do not spend time with one another, unless food or work is involved so this was a very important milestone. I was actually looking forward to spending time with my two least favorite immediate family members, but as I should have will known, when Bob feels a pang of familial love it is a harbinger of disaster.
The actual trip to the pool went well and involved the usual small talk about my inability to date a female from my species and Issy's desire to punch me in the balls. Being fairly immune to such conversation, I felt pretty positive about our upcoming swim. Upon arriving I was surprised to see only a half dozen cars in the parking lot. But, I immediately rationalized that most pool-goers are adolescents dropped off by their uncaring parents, so I wasn't too worried. After paying the cute little Asian girl, who reminded me of Lotus Blossom, we ventured towards the pool. There were at most thirty people there, which includes the lifeguards, making my earlier rationalization ring false but who needs a bunch of nymph like twelve year old girls to have a good time at the pool? Not I, I say, not I. However, soon thereafter something very troublesome became apparent. I, Robert Kyle Wilson, was the fattest person at the pool. Now, I am used to being on the upper half of the fatitude scale but to actually be the most obese person at the public pool is a little much even for me. There were of course plenty of chubby mother's wearing ill fitting bathing attire, and I did take some solace in that fact but I still had a good fifty pounds on any of these domestic behemoths. Of course Issy didn't help matters as he took great delight in pointing out that I was fatter than everyone there. All I could think of was "Et tu, McDonalds."
After coming to terms with my position as fattest man at the pool, I jumped in and took a little swim. Or, at least that was the plan. The moment my ample flesh touched the pool coldness like no other, save for perhaps death, shrouded my entire being. In other words it was fucking cold in there. I could barely move, more less swim, so I opted none of the above and hauled my ass out of there and back to the warm embrace of my Power Puff Girls towel.
It now made sense why the parking lot was empty and only a couple dozen people were there, because only an idiot, or my mother, would deem it fit to swim when it was at most seventy-five degrees out with a heavy overcast blocking out any relief from the sun. I am not ashamed to admit that even the short period I spent in the pool was enough to shrivel my usual massive three and half inches down to one. It was that cold.
Now, things did manage to improve over the course of day. A fat black man showed up and took my place as King Fat; I could only hope one day to have the bitch tits like his. And, eventually the clouds parted, allowing the sun to warm the pool to a semi-habitable state. All was well with the world, until mother decided to engage the pretty young life guards in conversation. If I have one bane in this world, it would be attractive young ladies. I am putty in their hands, and also money in their pockets. Therefore I strive to maintain a minimum of fifty yards from there presence to prevent any unwarranted gifts of money and electronic devices, such as a pager. (The last one being a true story) My mother is aware of my problem and believes she can fix it. Her solution being very simple, direct and extremely painful to my mental health. The first step in her "final solution" is scoping out the most attractive woman in a given area. She then walks up to them and engages them in small talk. After a few minutes she yells, and I mean bellows from the bottom of her lungs, for me to come over. Usually I run away but being at the pool, with very little shelter, and standing out like an Albatross due to my position as King Fat in waiting, I had no where to go. So, I waddled over to her and listened as she tried to fix me up with a beautiful nineteen year old. Now, when I use the phrase fix me up, what I mean to say is she blatantly, in the most obtuse manner possible, states that I am single, live in a trailer, work for my parents, graduated from college with a degree in religion, and am serious need of a date.
Surprisingly this approach did not work. The lifeguard responded with a weak smile, stated she was already involved and quickly retreated to an empty chair across the pool. My already shriveled member managed to invert itself into my actual flesh like a baby kangaroo into its mother's pouch. Of course mom blamed me for the failure due to my inability to speak up for myself. Also, she stated it wouldn't hurt if I lost a little weight and got some sun. You could say she was kicking a man while he was down, but really what worse can you do to guy whose nuts suffered from a case of reverse puberty and rescinded into his stomach.
The actual trip to the pool went well and involved the usual small talk about my inability to date a female from my species and Issy's desire to punch me in the balls. Being fairly immune to such conversation, I felt pretty positive about our upcoming swim. Upon arriving I was surprised to see only a half dozen cars in the parking lot. But, I immediately rationalized that most pool-goers are adolescents dropped off by their uncaring parents, so I wasn't too worried. After paying the cute little Asian girl, who reminded me of Lotus Blossom, we ventured towards the pool. There were at most thirty people there, which includes the lifeguards, making my earlier rationalization ring false but who needs a bunch of nymph like twelve year old girls to have a good time at the pool? Not I, I say, not I. However, soon thereafter something very troublesome became apparent. I, Robert Kyle Wilson, was the fattest person at the pool. Now, I am used to being on the upper half of the fatitude scale but to actually be the most obese person at the public pool is a little much even for me. There were of course plenty of chubby mother's wearing ill fitting bathing attire, and I did take some solace in that fact but I still had a good fifty pounds on any of these domestic behemoths. Of course Issy didn't help matters as he took great delight in pointing out that I was fatter than everyone there. All I could think of was "Et tu, McDonalds."
After coming to terms with my position as fattest man at the pool, I jumped in and took a little swim. Or, at least that was the plan. The moment my ample flesh touched the pool coldness like no other, save for perhaps death, shrouded my entire being. In other words it was fucking cold in there. I could barely move, more less swim, so I opted none of the above and hauled my ass out of there and back to the warm embrace of my Power Puff Girls towel.
It now made sense why the parking lot was empty and only a couple dozen people were there, because only an idiot, or my mother, would deem it fit to swim when it was at most seventy-five degrees out with a heavy overcast blocking out any relief from the sun. I am not ashamed to admit that even the short period I spent in the pool was enough to shrivel my usual massive three and half inches down to one. It was that cold.
Now, things did manage to improve over the course of day. A fat black man showed up and took my place as King Fat; I could only hope one day to have the bitch tits like his. And, eventually the clouds parted, allowing the sun to warm the pool to a semi-habitable state. All was well with the world, until mother decided to engage the pretty young life guards in conversation. If I have one bane in this world, it would be attractive young ladies. I am putty in their hands, and also money in their pockets. Therefore I strive to maintain a minimum of fifty yards from there presence to prevent any unwarranted gifts of money and electronic devices, such as a pager. (The last one being a true story) My mother is aware of my problem and believes she can fix it. Her solution being very simple, direct and extremely painful to my mental health. The first step in her "final solution" is scoping out the most attractive woman in a given area. She then walks up to them and engages them in small talk. After a few minutes she yells, and I mean bellows from the bottom of her lungs, for me to come over. Usually I run away but being at the pool, with very little shelter, and standing out like an Albatross due to my position as King Fat in waiting, I had no where to go. So, I waddled over to her and listened as she tried to fix me up with a beautiful nineteen year old. Now, when I use the phrase fix me up, what I mean to say is she blatantly, in the most obtuse manner possible, states that I am single, live in a trailer, work for my parents, graduated from college with a degree in religion, and am serious need of a date.
Surprisingly this approach did not work. The lifeguard responded with a weak smile, stated she was already involved and quickly retreated to an empty chair across the pool. My already shriveled member managed to invert itself into my actual flesh like a baby kangaroo into its mother's pouch. Of course mom blamed me for the failure due to my inability to speak up for myself. Also, she stated it wouldn't hurt if I lost a little weight and got some sun. You could say she was kicking a man while he was down, but really what worse can you do to guy whose nuts suffered from a case of reverse puberty and rescinded into his stomach.
Thankfully we left soon after.
It was a good day to be me.
Go to Hell
It was a good day to be me.
Go to Hell
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