~Rock~Paper~Scissors~

A memory, or should I say, an experience I had from long ago, when I was much younger, and carefree. That came to an abrupt halt on this sunny summer day.

One sunny afternoon during summer I had gone to the neighborhood public pool to try to beat the heat.  I put my belongings in the metal storage basket that they make you put your non swimming clothes into until your done swimming and ask for them to change back in your street clothes, and walked around the inground swimming pool looking for a good spot to lay out my towel.

As anyone familiar with public swimming knows that after every twenty minutes to a half hour the pool guards blow their whistles signaling all the swimmers to leave the pool while they go on their allotted breaks.  It was during this time that I was bored and was looking for something to occupy my time while waiting for the whistle to blow again for all the kids to jump back in the water and carry on with the festivities. 

 I decided to teach myself to skip rocks...off pavement, not water.

I was doing pretty well of skipping the stones too but being a kid, wasnt really paying attention to the people around me.

At this point a teenage boy just happened to have poor timing and he walked into my throwing field before I realized what would happen, I let the rock fly. Whack! My rock hits the kid right in the head.

I beat feet so fast I don't remember how I got to the Ladies changing room, but was none the less, very happy I made it to the safety of the girls room where that teenage boy could not seek revenge on me; or so I thought.

There I was in the changing area, in a stall with my feet up, so they wouldn't be seen, and if anyone bent to look, they would think it was empty of any females, or that I had somehow left the building undetected.

So, I'm hovering in a stall, feet pulled up to chest with arms wrapped around them so they would not drop down into view. Breathing hard, quietly panting, was more like it.

Let me take this time to explain that on the opposite wall of the ladies changing room, on the outside of the building, the ground sloped upward towards a small incline that people slid down in the winter.There was a window at the far end of the building, and unbeknownst to me, the teenage boy was deviant enough to actually climb through the window, into the ladies changing area. And he also brought back up in the form of another teenage boy.

Together they searched the changing stalls and when they got to mine, I could hear them whispering and laughing, all hyped up with adrenaline from the hunt. 

 My stall door suddenly slammed open, crashing against the wall. Both boys looked at my as if they were feverish and hell bent on revenge.  One boy reached out and grabbed me, pulling me from my hiding spot, and holding my arms behind my back.  The other teenage boy leaned forward, leering at me, and before I knew it...he reached above his head where I realized, hung a nasty, sticky, fly encrusted insect catcher.

He reached up and tore it down from the rafter where it hang, and proceeded to wrap that fly tape around my head , neck, and upper torso.  The tape laid across my mouth, under my nose, and I could feel the vibrations of insects that were fighting to free themselves.  The teenagers stood back, laughing in my face, thoroughly enjoying their handiwork. They gave me one last shove into the stall door before hurredly climbing back  out the window the way they had entered .

The area I assumed to be a safe haven and found out the hard way that it was no deterant for people focused on payback. I never swam in that pool again after that whole disgusting experience.

The moral of the story, I guess is....Dont Throw Rocks.......

if you throw rocks, you might get wrapped up in flypaper....and need a pair of sissors to cut you free.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Ha-ha! What a great little story. I love these kind of tales about kids, and followed along with keen interest. Sorry about the flies, though--that's a punishment I've never heard of.