A Guilty Conscience

Guilt dragged me out of my warm and comfortable, three inch memory foam, sheets smelling of freshly bathed angels, pillows of the puffiest daydreaming clouds, covered in blankets of mink clad thoughts of happy…


You get it.

I didn’t wanna get outta bed.

I blame the whiskey. And society. And that smiling and inviting face that kept saying seductively “How about another?”

She could have been anyone. As beautiful as the sunrise on a spring morning, smelling of freshly mown grass and baby’s breath or ugly enough to scare mud out of a dry ditch.

It wouldn’t have mattered.

She had something I wanted.

51% corn, other grains, filtered limestone water and a few years makes for a fine indulgence on a Thursday night and I was out to challenge the bar to a duel. Last man standing.

The bar won again.


So here I am, poolside once more. Head pounding, hair tied up in a bun (strange, really. My hair isn’t very long and I have no idea how I got a bun) and a sickly feeling in my nethers.


I actually started out really strong, with some serious pull in my stroke. I was skimming though the water at a pretty good clip and starting to think “hey, I’ve got this!”

The cramp hit me about three quarters of the way through the second length.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a grown *ss man trying to maintain his composure and dignity, trying to swim with one knee pulled up and looking like he’s doing his best to imitate the FTD florist mascot while barely keeping his lips above the surface of the water and hoots of angst echoing against the concrete walls but let me tell you, it’s not pretty.


I finally grasped the edge of the pool with mewls of pain spitting through my teeth. Unintelligible words like “hhnngh…hhnngh…hhnngh” were emanating from my grimaced lips and a hand swam into view.

I looked up and back into the dark and soulless eyes of that mean granny from Wednesday.

“What is it with you?” she asked while hauling my pale carcass back into the pool deck.


I tried to convey my hopes and dreams of becoming a normal sized human being again and how I’ve tried just about everything else to no avail but what came out of my mouth was…

Last night.

Directly onto the deck in full view of everyone in the pool.

I saw some bits of peppermint, some pistachios, a gum wrapper and a whole uncooked and seemingly unchewed steak (it was a helluva night).


Getting unsteadily to my feet I took about a hundred yards of steps (stepping on the steak along the way) to get to the locker room door ten yards away and disappeared into the cool anonymity of the men’s room.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s