It's interesting how an accent differential makes a funny situation slightly more humorous. I wonder why that is.
I went swimming today during lunch at the UL sports arena (same as here). The pool is set on race course, so one lap is 100 m. The pools at Emory are set to the short track, and that way you can fit in more lanes to a pool, so you get fewer people to each lane if they have to share. At UL, there are maybe seven lanes, and five of them are often used by the swim team so the general public has to share the remaining lanes.
**aside: though even when all seven are open and there are only a few swimmers (everyone could have their own lane), someone invariably ends up sharing the lane with me. "Why Mr. Stranger, when you could have your own lane??" It's like when electrons defy electron orbital filling patterns or guys break the urinal usage order**
Anyway, today two guys decided to share the lane with me, which meant that we had to swim circular laps (read: highly stressful laps). It works fine if everyone is the same pace, but passing people can be a pain, figuratively and literally.
One of the guys was probably in his mid 40s and when we talked, I couldn't understand half of what he said. Luckily, I developed a skill in China where I take a guess at what the person is saying or asking and respond accordingly. The success rate is surprisingly high, either because I guess correctly or the other person realizes that I'm an idiot and changes topic.
During my last lap, I was super focused on proper technique and a strong finish when I suddenly saw feet wriggling, face up, under me! Realizing that I was about to spear the guy with my ferocious paddling, I veered to the right to pass him.
When I reached the end of the pool, he caught up to me and said, "You were almost the end of me! Didn't ya hear me hollerin'??" I guess he'd been doing the backstroke, yelling to me as I approached him that he was in my path of destruction.
Hours later in tissue engineering class, I got a short laugh as I imagined the guy with widening eyes and increasingly frantic kicking and shouting (Irish accent, of course) as I zoomed in towards him, like a monster closing in on a kill.
Bonus: he also asked if I was at UL for a swimming competition ("Who, little old me? Why I'm not that great of a swimmer. Stop.") and then recommended I participate in a triathlon... perhaps not for my athletic prowess but because I would scare everyone off the course.
I went swimming today during lunch at the UL sports arena (same as here). The pool is set on race course, so one lap is 100 m. The pools at Emory are set to the short track, and that way you can fit in more lanes to a pool, so you get fewer people to each lane if they have to share. At UL, there are maybe seven lanes, and five of them are often used by the swim team so the general public has to share the remaining lanes.
**aside: though even when all seven are open and there are only a few swimmers (everyone could have their own lane), someone invariably ends up sharing the lane with me. "Why Mr. Stranger, when you could have your own lane??" It's like when electrons defy electron orbital filling patterns or guys break the urinal usage order**
Anyway, today two guys decided to share the lane with me, which meant that we had to swim circular laps (read: highly stressful laps). It works fine if everyone is the same pace, but passing people can be a pain, figuratively and literally.
One of the guys was probably in his mid 40s and when we talked, I couldn't understand half of what he said. Luckily, I developed a skill in China where I take a guess at what the person is saying or asking and respond accordingly. The success rate is surprisingly high, either because I guess correctly or the other person realizes that I'm an idiot and changes topic.
During my last lap, I was super focused on proper technique and a strong finish when I suddenly saw feet wriggling, face up, under me! Realizing that I was about to spear the guy with my ferocious paddling, I veered to the right to pass him.
When I reached the end of the pool, he caught up to me and said, "You were almost the end of me! Didn't ya hear me hollerin'??" I guess he'd been doing the backstroke, yelling to me as I approached him that he was in my path of destruction.
 |
| I envision my arms coming down with terrifying force, obliterating whatever comes in their path. |
Bonus: he also asked if I was at UL for a swimming competition ("Who, little old me? Why I'm not that great of a swimmer. Stop.") and then recommended I participate in a triathlon... perhaps not for my athletic prowess but because I would scare everyone off the course.
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