Hate mail.

An open letter to the jerk who yelled at me at the YWCA yesterday:

Dear jerk face,

I realize that water aerobics is not the most glamorous of sports. And I realize when my class is taking up half the pool, it may generate some animosity from the more "serious" swimmers like you in the other lanes of the pool. But you know what? I'm a serious swimmer too. And I'm probably even faster than you.

Your "the ladder is over there" comment that you said to me as I was crossing through your lane to get to another lane after class ended was totally unfounded. Did you really think I don't know where the ladder is? Here's the thing. You were resting on the side of the pool. You were standing there, slowly putting your hand paddles on (probably because you want to build up muscles because you would care about a think like having big pipes), and you were nowhere near ready to start swimming again. In fact, your goggles weren't even on yet!

When you told me to my face that I was being rude by crossing your lane, I had to disagree. When you sassily explained to me that I "could have hit" you, you were wrong. Why? Because of what I just explained to you...you WEREN'T SWIMMING. Then when you told me I "could have hit" the dude in the next lane, did you realize that he was pushing off the other wall 25 yards away? That's 25 yards amount of time that I had to cross one lane. So no, there is absolutely no way I could have possibly hit anyone.

But I might hit you. On purpose. In the face. With my water bottle!

Love,

Anna