No Lady, I’m Actually Not Impressed

Pool owners are a proud people. Let me tell you, I own an above ground pool and it’s not even very big, but damnit, if I don’t strut out to get my mail everyday with my head held a little higher than my neighbor’s head. Never mind the fact that the poor guy is 70 something and bent over like a rotten banana. That’s not the point. Owning a pool seems to give people the impression that they are in some way better than others.
Sure, you have a body of water in your backyard. But, so does this guy… you don’t see him flaunting it.

As the manager of a Full Service Pool and Spa business, I run into some interesting people. Today was no different. So here’s the scenario. This lady walks in with that attitude that I’ve come to call “IownapoolandIamanassholebecauseofit syndrome” and proceeds to tell me about how this and that is wrong with her pool.

“How do I fix it?” she asks.

“Well ma’am, you need to… blah blah blah,” I answer.

“Oh, I know how to do that, and I already have everything I need… I’ve had this pool for 14 years.”

Here we go, this is where it gets good. She’s made the effort to tell me that she’s been a pool owner for half of my adult life. As if I could give half a shit. This is always the point in the conversation where I want more than anything to say something along the lines of…

“Well, look at the time, I better get going. I’ve got lunch with Miley Cyrus, Al Gore, Morgan Freeman, and that lady from the Pine Sol commercials…we’re going to figure out what to pack for our trip to the moon. You see… Miley, Al, Morgan, Pine Sol lady, and myself, we’re going on the first civilian flight to the moon.”

Just to see the look on the lady’s face, it would so be worth it. But, I don’t. I mind my manners and smile. However, she’s not done with me. She’s got more to say!

“The pool has been all my responsibility lately. My husband took a job in Florida, and so he’s never here to help out with this pool. Haha, he’s got his own pool down there to take care of.”

“What does your husband do?” I ask, knowing I’ve made a critical mistake.

“Well,” she smiles that boy this is a doozie smile, “He is a Astro-chemical-surgeon-political-inventor-engineer-scientist.”


Sketch Artist Rendering of Husband

“The company he works for fabricates… blah blah blah… they make the material used in the… blah blah blah… Emergency vehicles at the NASCAR Races. He may-“

“Get to race in a NASCAR Race?”

“No, ride in the pace car at the next race.”

“Oh.” I sighed dejectedly.

I could just imagine the aforementioned husband terrorizing the NASCAR Track in his Delorean.


Actual NASCAR Photo with a Delorean and Kick Ass Flames Added In

That would’ve been a kickass end to this story. But, instead, the lady bought $32.08 worth of stuff. She gave me $40 and then proceeded to do one of the things that pisses me off more than anything.

“Hold on, I’ve got the change.”

And she hands me a quarter. No lady, you don’t have the change. You have some change, but you don’t have THE CHANGE.

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