I may have mentioned that Pickles likes to swim. He has been on the swim team at Our Neighborhood’s pool for the last few years and has enjoyed it. As a kid, I had no idea such things existed, so I was wholly unprepared. Luckily, I have retained a
very small capacity to learn and managed to figure out a thing or two in the four years he has been swimming.
The regular summer swimming season is something like 15 minutes long which is odd because the actual meets are each 16 hours long (I may be exaggerating) in the hottest possible weather NJ has to offer. At the end of the season, there are 2 weeks when the kids who swam fast enough in a meet to “qualify” for the two super
ridiculously crowded fancy swim meets. During those two weeks, the coach cranks up and changes up their training to help them get ready for their specific events. Also, everyone swims with drag.
You can imagine that as an outsider I had some questions.
It turns out that the swimmers all swim with extra bathing suits on, trunks over those snug Jammer Speedos and footless tights. The purpose of the extra clothing is to provide drag. You know, resistance, while they swim. So when they take the drag off for the super fancy swim meet they swim that. much. faster. For reasons I still don’t fully understand, many of the extra suits have gaping holes in them and lots of the tights have the feet ripped off (some have the appearance of having been chewed by sharks, but that is just supposition on my part) and have huge runs in them. It looks more like Zombie Week than Drag Week. I find the whole thing endlessly amusing and entertaining.
Yesterday I had the following conversation:
17 year-old boy swimmer (to 17 year-old girl swimmer): Shannon, will you help me put on my tights?
Me: How often do you get to say that?
17 year-old boy swimmer: Just once a year.
Me (to myself): Unless it involves a superhero costume, of course.
So for four long years I have had the image in my head of Pickles standing on the pool deck with a dejected expression wearing a tutu, heels, a curly rainbow wig, goggles and a snorkel with the caption: Pickles entirely misunderstands the swim team’s “Drag Week”.
I can conjure this image up in my head at almost any moment for a little giggle. I am doing it right now. What can I say, I am simple.
There is no. way. in. hell. Pickles would agree to dress in drag and stand on the pool deck for me to turn my mental picture into an actual picture. So, for your amusement I found the closest thing: