Hot Tub Tales

March 7, 2009

I’m on quite a lovely layover in a little midwestern town, and to cap off the day I headed down to the hotel hot tub for a nice relaxing soak, complete with the latest Michael Buble cd and a good book. This is not what I got, what I received instead were little nuggets of other peoples lives, presented here for our judgement and ridicule. 

I was greeted by lots of noise, the worst kind when one is looking for peace a quiet, that of children. My ears were not the only ones in for a treat however, my eyes were not forgotten, I was to be blessed with the pleasure of middle aged, physically unfit men and woman.  I will simply say two words: man boobs. One woman was relatively attractive and very slender, in that dehydrated jerky meat kind of way. 

I thought, what the hell, and got in anyway, I would not be escaping into my literary world or the soothing sounds of a young twenty something year old with the voice of a god, but this would have to do. I was then treated to usual questions, “Where are you from?” “What brings you here?” even though I was pretty sure I was wearing my ‘not interested’ face.  I politely answered, hoping they would get the hint, they did not. 

Mr. ManBoobs prefaced a story with this charming line “I don’t want to say how stupid I am…” too late, the black panther tattoo on your arm already gave you away. Here’s a little life tip for all you out there, if you’re 25+ years out of high school, recounting how many points you won your high school wrestling match by does not earn you cool points. 

I just thought these precious moments were too special to keep all to myself, so I thought I’d share, after about 20 minutes, I decided it was time to retreat to my room and enjoy some grown up peace and quiet.


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