The Pool Incident

Okay, so I'm getting ready to go to the fitness place for a swim. I put on my suit and then throw some shorts and a t-shirt over it, slip on the flip flops, grab my gym bag full of soap, shampoo, stuff like that, and away I go.

So I get in and I'm swimming away, when in comes this guy whom I suspect isn't "all there." He's pissing me off and blocking my laps, so I check the clock, realize I was about 10 minutes from getting out anyway, and decide to leave early. Now comes The Ladder Maneuver. Girls, you'll know what I'm talking about here: that moment when you're climbing out hoping to god the guy right there isn't looking up at your ass... well I climb onto the first step, and Said Man behind me begins making some weird grunting sound as my ass is in his face. I climb out of there as fast as humanly possible, grab my towel, and fly into the locker room, dude's bizarre noises echoing behind me.

But wait, there's more.

So I hang my bag in the changing room, close the curtain, and take a nice hot shower. As I'm towelling off, I realize that I forgot to pack my f'ing bra and panties. Now. What to do? "Of course I had to wear my thinnest fucking shorts," I mumble. So I pull the shorts on and slip my shirt over my head, hoping that, if I move nice and slowly, no inappropriate breast bouncing will go on as I make my way out of the place and into my car. I pull the shirt down as far as I can over my ass, paranoid that someone will actually go through the "where's her panty-line" thought process (you know, because that's so fucking likely, and grab my suit and towel. I go through the usual motions of wrapping the suit in the towel and putting the whole thing in a plastic bag, only to then realize that I had pressed the saturated towel against my t-shirt and left a giant wet circle, right over my boob. There goes being inconspicuous, because you can guess what happened next. What happens when a wet shirt is over a braless breast? Yep. So now I had to get my ass to my car without drawing attention to the dark, wet circle on my shirt, and the determined, spiteful protrusion under it, as I tip-toed (to avoid movement) my way to the front desk to return my key. Now note that I'm not a prude, but still, walzing around with the headlights on at a busy coed facility is not my cup of tea.

Of course it has to be cold and windy outside, and I have wet hair, so obviously I kept getting shivers, which made (ahem) everything more obvious.

This is probably one of those things that, to the person involved it seems like a big deal, but nobody else knows even notices.

I mean... right?