Two amusing things about work at the pool lately:
- Someone has been leaving romance novels at in the ladies changeroom. Of the smutty variety. Of the seventies smutty variety. A LOT of them, I think we have found 10-15. We could start a vintage romance library. Who is the mystery book leaver? Why can't she take them to the used bookstore, or the thrift store? These are the questions! I do like to read the backs though...my theory is that 3 out of every 4 romance novels has to have something about "the burning passion that threatens to consume them both" on the back.
- Yesterday I spent a few minutes explaining how to float to the kids in my swimming class. Then I explained that whoever wasn't floating had to help me count seconds (we count them as jellybeans) for the kids who were floating (they have to float for 5 jellybeans). To sum up I said "So what do you do if you aren't floating?" and one of the girls said (without irony) "you sink." True that.
