It is the first hour of life guarding and it’s not that bad. I can get through this. Maybe not very many people will come in today. I’m hopeful for the rest of the day. Lap swimmers fill the lanes and swim back and forth…back and forth.
It is the fourth hour of life guarding and the children have started coming in. The first few rules have been broken for the day. This breaks the silence and whistles start to be blown.
It is the fifth hour of guarding lives. The teenagers have arrived, and the building has become filled with screaming children and teenagers all running across an obstacle course. The sound of the diving boards begins.
It is the sixth hour and I finally get food. Half of me is eating because of hunger and the other half is eating because it’s something different to do. After I finish my sandwich, I use the rest of my break to help patrons get life jackets on their children. I do this knowing very well that these jackets will be thrown to the side when they learn they can’t go down the slides in them.
It is hour seven and the word ‘walk’ is starting to sound weird because I’ve said it so much. I have also fallen in the guard office on a drop of water. Nothing got hurt, but my pride. This is because people witnessed this fall.
It is hour 10 and I have lost all hope. I’m now praying for the sweet release of death — or closing, whichever comes first. The children will not stop running and don’t listen to me or my whistle. There may be fewer of them now, but they seem to be behaving worse and worse as the day goes on. The parents have also been getting tired and are not watching their children as well as they should. This makes my life harder.
It is hour thirteen and all but three children have left. We take turns playing with the kids and guarding, letting the children decide who they want to race. Playing like a kid again is fun and rejuvenates my spirit a bit. The slides, although meant for children, are still fun, even as a college student.
It is hour thirteen and a half and we have finally closed. The world seems a bit better, but the daunting task of cleaning the bathrooms is still upon me.
It is hour fourteen and I walk out of the pool building with my hair a mess, not wearing any shoes and still only wearing a bathing suit.
