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“If another kid pees in the pool,” Schlatt’s voice ripples across the pool office, “I’m actually going to shut this place down.”
Charlie Slimecicle laughs, slamming his hands on the table hysterically as he fights to recover. His eyes are red from the sting of chlorine, and water drips from his instructing uniform as he fights to breathe over his laughter. “Dude,” he coughs, “It’s not even that they’re peeing. It’s that they announce that they’re about to pee before they do it.” He dissolves back into laughter, and Schlatt simply stares at him, eyes wide in disgust.
“Remind me to never sign up to teach lessons. Ever.”
“It pays more,” Charlie tells him, voice cracking as he wheezes, “much more.”
Phil walks in, slamming the heavy door to the deck behind him as he collapses into a deck chair. “Techno just threatened to race a kid outside of the pool. To prove that there’s no point in running on deck, because they’re not fast enough for running to be better than walking. When we get reported, please make sure you do not put my name on there as a supervisor.” He slides his whistle from his armband onto the desk, sighing.
“Who’s guarding right now?” Charlie asks curiously, and Phil frowns.
“Techno and Tommy. And, uh, I think Purpled is guarding the small pool. I’m off duty for 15, but I have online training to do.”
“You also have to do chemicals,” Schlatt snorts. “Tommy’s never going to do them in a million years.”
Phil sighs and doesn’t respond, slumping over the computer keyboard in front of him. The pool office is bare, filled only with cabinets full of files and binders, and random papers hung on the wall. The door is plastered with signs that read ‘Don’t forget to Punch Out!’ and ‘No electronics on person while on duty!’
A whistle blast from the deck has them all jolting to their feet, and Phil peeks out the door before turning back to them, rolling his eyes. “Some kid was running again. I swear, these parents do nothing, man.”
“To be fair,” Schlatt says, voice mocking, “If I had a kid like those ones, I’d hope they ran around the pool deck. That way, when I got rid of them, I could blame it on the lifeguards.”
Charlie and Phil choke out shocked laughs in unison, the former standing up and reaching to pull a towel onto his hair. “I’m finally done with my shift, so I’m off to change. Although, Schlatt, heads up. You’re going to get a call about that Michael kid again.”
“Are you kidding me?” Schlatt rages, face crumpling. “What did he do this time?”
“Failed my class,” Charlie grins. “For the fourth time. I’m telling you, man. He still can’t hold a back float!”
“Just pass him anyway!” Schlatt snaps, but he shakes his head and picks up his phone regardless. “When they call, I’m telling them that I fired you.”
“Please do. Maybe they’ll stop signing him up for private lessons.”
Outside, the pool isn’t faring all that much better.
“Sir,” Tommy puffs up his chest, eyes darting between the man in front of him and the rest of the pool. “I’m very sorry, but you cannot wear just your boxer shorts in here. We require swimsuits.”
“But I’ve just come from working out,” the man blusters, “And who are you to tell me what to wear?”
“I can get my manager, if you’d like.” Tommy scowls, swivelling to face back at the pool. These patrons never got easier to deal with.
The man stared at him for a half second before grumbling under his breath and turning to the exit. “I was leaving anyway.”
Tommy held back a scoff of disbelief as the man trudged away and turned his attention back to the pool. It was a quieter day, with only a few families in the shallow end, and a couple of lane swimmers making their laps. He signalled to Techno, across the pool, that he would resume guarding properly, and the other guard nodded before continuing to rhythmically scan the water.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” a voice sounded behind him, and Tommy whipped his head momentarily to see Charlie walking behind him, before he turned his attention back to the patrons in the water. “Dude, you didn’t even try with that guy. You folded under zero pressure. Just immediately offered to get your manager.”
“That’s because I know Schlatt would probably scare him right off,” Tommy said defensively, and Charlie continued laughing as he ducked into the lifeguard office to grab an extra towel. When he reemerged, bag in hand, he was still giggling to himself.
“If I told Schlatt you tried to involve him in that, I think he’d fire you on the spot. Or stage a drowning.”
“Good point,” Tommy began, and gave up on the rest of his attention. Across the pool, Techno was leaning down to talk to a patron. He raised his eyebrows at him, but Techno waved him off, still talking to the customer. Or, more accurately, giving the customer a deadpan look.
In the shallow end, the kids were splashing water at each other. Tommy sighed. In less than two minutes, one of the older people in the lane swim would be coming up to him to lecture him about how the kids shouldn’t be allowed to splash water. In the pool.
He had three hours left on his shift.
Techno’s patron had swum away, at a very slow pace for the fast swim lane they were in, and Techno’s raised eyebrow spoke volumes— he had tried his best. It was Tommy’s turn. As the older woman approached the edge of the pool that he stood on, he knelt (per company standards, mind you!) and tried to lower his tone into something respectful.
“Excuse me,” he began, but the woman was already glaring at him. She ducked her face underwater to avoid hearing him. Tommy, dejectedly, waited for her to surface before speaking again. “If it’s possible, would you be able to move into one of the lanes to your left or right? For safety reasons—”
“I’m moving fast enough,” snapped the woman, who was not moving fast at all. “If I go into those lanes, I’ll keep running into people.”
Tommy looked at the other lanes— the slow and medium speed lanes— where patrons were calmly swimming at speeds that were admittedly almost faster than this woman’s pace. “I really don’t think that would be an issue, ma’am. If it helps, there are much fewer people in those lanes.”
The woman grumbled but eventually moved, and when Tommy resumed proper guarding again, he and Techno took up their original posts. Tommy had run out of songs to mentally sing at this point, after almost half an hour straight of guarding. Which wasn’t that much, but for a day like today, with the temperatures so sweltering on deck? Was far too long.
Thankfully, the three guards rotated, and Phil came in to take Purpled’s place, sending Techno to guard the small pool. Tommy gratefully handed his guarding tube to Purpled, speedwalking into the pool office to collapse into an office chair.
He froze, eyes wide, and looked up at Schlatt, who was staring blankly at his phone. “If this chair is wet,” Tommy said, tone frigid, “I am going to quit this job immediately.”
“Charlie was dripping onto it.” Schlatt looked up. “And you need this job. I could quit if I wanted to. You need the money.”
“Yeah, alright, Schlatt.” Rolling his eyes, Tommy picked up his phone from the side of the desk. “Somebody unplugged my phone!”
“I did. I needed to charge my second phone.”
Tommy stared at him. “I hate this place.”
“Tell me about it.”
As if on cue, the landline phone in the office rang. Schlatt stood lazily from his seat, reaching across the cheap table to pick up the receiver and hold it to his ear. “Schlatt. YMCA Pool Office.”
He paused, listening to the faint voice on the receiver, before sighing deeply. “We failed your son because he couldn’t swim, ma’am. And I fired that guy. Maybe tell your son to start breathing air and stop swallowing water, unless you want your brain damage to become a family trait!”
He slammed down the phone, his head following to slam on the table.
A whistle blast ripped out from the pool deck, followed by Purpled’s voice, uncharacteristically loud, “Walk!” booming across the building.
Tommy began to laugh hysterically. “I hate this job.”
Schlatt sighed, looking at him. “Don’t we all, Tommy. Don’t we all.”