Just Two of Us on the Poolside

 

 

 In my city, there are many indoor heated swimming pools. Some of them are run by the city government. I used to swim in one of the pools for exercise.

 There was a rule in the pool. Once an hour, we had to get out of the water. The sound of radio gymnastics started. The lifeguards started their exercise. We couldn’t swim during the radio gymnastics. There was no rule that all swimmers needed to exercise together, but the children exercised and were obedient. Most adults, including me, sat down on a bench and relaxed. In my days, Japanese schools really let children participate in radio gymnastics many times. We were tired of it.

 But I experienced occasions where I needed to exercise with radio gymnastics.

 The pool was open until 8:30 p.m. I sometimes swam in the nighttime during winter. It was an indoor heated pool. But a few people were there on winter nights. Sometimes I was the only swimmer in the pool. Only two of us were on the poolside: a lifeguard and me. Maybe they had a strict rule. They had to perform radio gymnastics once an hour. Even if I was the only one there.

 If there were many swimmers, I could ignore the lifeguards. But I couldn’t ignore them because we were alone. So I did radio gymnastics with a lifeguard when there were a few swimmers.

 One winter night, when a lifeguard and I were alone, radio gymnastics began. I felt the need to urinate and went to the restroom. When I returned from the restroom, I witnessed a shocking scene: The sound of the radio gymnastics was on, but the lifeguard didn’t exercise. He was sitting on a bench and relaxing. When he saw me, he hastily started the radio gymnastics. Maybe he assumed I had gone home. He recognized I returned. He needed to perform radio gymnastics.

 I did the radio gymnastics because I cared for the lifeguards. The lifeguards did it because I was there.

 What kind of charade is this?

Picture by nora