The Life of A Batty Broad

Good Intentions, Flawed Results

Getting Wet In The Sports Basement Dressing Room

I have apparently missed out on the whole “getting older and wiser” bandwagon.  I am definitely getting older but wiser is somehow becoming more elusive.  This is why I followed the advice of some 20-something clerks at the Sports Basement and attempted to try on wetsuits.  Okay that sounds a bit arbitrary.  It wasn’t like I was just wandering around and someone said, “You should try on some wetsuits” and I thought, that sounds like a mighty fine way to spend a Thursday afternoon.  I volunteered for this humiliating activity because I’m participating in a triathlon camp this weekend, which means I have to swim in a very cold lake and the possibility of hypothermia outweighed the embarrassment of shoving my entire body into a rubber sausage casing.

original_older-not-wiser-birthday-card

I showed up at Sports Basement to rent a wetsuit because the cost of buying one was more than I paid for my first car.  For that price, I think it should propel itself through the damn water.  Renting one is only $25.00 for the week and since I wasn’t sure how this foray into the unknown world was going to turn out, that seemed like the way to go.  I had called ahead to ask about trying them on and the woman on the other end of the phone explained that it would “take a while” so I should plan on being at the store for a couple of hours.  I unwisely assumed that she meant that it took some time to find the right fit but I would learn that she meant that it took a couple of hours to actually try it on.

The whole process consisted of the following:

  1. Provide your height and weight to some young guy who then looks at you with an inappropriate level of skepticism.
  2. He then determines that I am a Medium/Athena. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration and other awesome stuff.  In the modern day apparently Athena is the goddess of big butts because I am informed that that size is to accommodate your hips.  I suppose I must have looked a bit murderous when he told me this because he scurried away to go find my size.
  3. Then I was taken to a dressing room where I was told to strip down to my undergarments and to “try on” the wetsuit. He provides instructions, including “don’t use your nails” and “don’t squat or you’ll blow out the butt”, which causes me to stifle my giggles.
  4. I am then left to my own devices and a diagram on the wall showing a man putting on the wetsuit. He makes it look easy.  It is not.
  5. I spent the next 35 minutes (yes, 35) attempting to shove all the body parts into the rubber suit. This consisted of spending at least 10 minutes just getting the suit up to my thighs, lots of grunting, profuse sweating and a generous amount of fear that I would fall down half way through the process and have to be rescued.

fallen and i can't get up

The best way I can explain this is to have you imagine that you are putting on a giant condom that is two sizes too small, thick and made of rubber.  Sounds pretty awesome, right?

29579_102_1

After I achieve what I consider a human feat of strength, I exit the dressing room and the clerks explain that I still don’t have it all the way on.  They help me, which takes another 10 minutes, and zip me up and I stand there feeling awkward while they assess the situation.  The female clerk determines that I should try on a different suit since I need room for my boobs.  I thought that should have been obvious from the get go but apparently they needed to see me fully squeezed into this rubber body prison before they could make that determination.  They tell me to peel the suit off like a banana peel and hand me a different suit to try on.

2782e336586b6b56cfc5f5bf68da894d4bbd99d0827ae148e9bd7491e9d0e285

Peeling the suit off “like a banana peel” is easy if you are a banana.  Bananas don’t perspire and their peels aren’t attached to them like freshly pasted wallpaper.  Peeling your wetsuit off is both a huge relief and totally disgusting.  It also made me realized that this torture device which was designed to keep you dry actually made you completely wet.  I sat in confused silence staring at the discarded beast for a full minute before attempting to try on the next suit.

dtc-fail-wetsuit

At this point, I turned into Ross from Friends.  There is an episode where Ross decides that he is going to wear leather pants on a date but he gets so hot that he excuses himself and goes into the bathroom to cool off.  He takes down his pants and puts some cold water on his legs and then he can’t get the pants back on.  So as I attempt to put a wetsuit on over my now sweaty body, I realize why Ross couldn’t pull his pants up.  Unfortunately I don’t have anyone to call to help me and I am about 1/3 of the way through the process before I realize that this just might not happen.  I stand in front of the mirror in the dressing room red-faced and sweaty and look at my reflection.  If you ever need an ego check, go try on a wetsuit, you will think bathing suit shopping is a life-affirming event.  I decide that no one can see me like this and forge ahead.

tumblr_mc7mk6qrLE1qeeqito1_250

After 10 more minutes of grunting and pulling, I have managed to put on the tortuous device and exit the dressing room to be assessed once again.  They determine that it is sufficient and I head back to attempt the removal process with a little more dignity. I was unsuccessful.  I mean I removed it but there was nothing dignified about what happened in that dressing room.

tumblr_inline_mowtngMy6a1qz4rgp

The good news was that the rental was cheap; the better news is that I didn’t have to freeze to death in Lake Berryessa, the best news was that I didn’t “blow out the butt”.  The bad news is that I will have to go through this process again because I didn’t like the way the suit made me feel like a boa constrictor was attempting to kill me in the water.

My suggestion, if you ever find yourself in need of a wetsuit is to buy several online and try them on in the privacy of your own home.  You should spray yourself down with some Pam cooking spray and make sure no one within a mile of you has a recording device available to them and then Houdini your way into as many rubber suits as you would like, until you find one that doesn’t make you feel like this:

Randy-Snow-Suit-A-Christmas-Story-1-e1420841012732-700x638

You have been warned.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on March 15, 2015 by in A Day in the Life, Batty, Blog and tagged , , , , , , , .

The Batty Broad Blog

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 4,498 other followers

Follow The Life of A Batty Broad on WordPress.com

Batty Tweets

Error: Please make sure the Twitter account is public.

Batty Pics

There was an error retrieving images from Instagram. An attempt will be remade in a few minutes.

Dr. Margaret Rutherford

Helping You Believe in Yourself

musicmisery

What came first, the music or the misery?- Nick Hornby

Unbound

unraveling one chapter at a time

Just Alyssa

...everything you need to know about Alyssa Royse, and a lot of stuff you don't...

Mi vida en Ecuador

Angela'sadventuresenecuador

Bonnie Jean Feldkamp

Good humor. Good heart. Good stories.

That Awkward Mom

Just a blog about the insanity of motherhood (and life in general) - the good, the bad and the awkward.

Ineluctable Entelechy

the inescapable drive from potentiality to actuality

Meaningful Derangement

Just another WordPress.com site

Kranky Kitty

the cantankerous cat to love/hate

Mandy Brasher

Good Intentions, Flawed Results

My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

A writer's life, bare-knuckled, with a soundtrack.

Marvellaland

Essays on memoir, music, and more from Beatrice M. Hogg

Bird-day, and other little quirks

Insanity, that's the only thing that can describe it.

The Frazzled Foodie

seeking solutions for the conflicted cook...

carpoolgoddessblog

4 out of 5 dentists recommend this WordPress.com site

books is wonderful

the world according to me

hoosiermandy

A Cautionary Tale from a Midwestern Mother of Mayhem

lynnecobb

Some random ramblings...

The Worthington Post

Life. Liberty. Happiness.

the dustbunny chronicles

the tales and other stuff hiding under my kitchen table

Lost in Suburbia

based on the syndicated humor column by Tracy Beckerman

Friend For The Ride

Encouraging Words for the Menopause and Midlife Roller Coaster

After the Kids Leave

First, we rent out their rooms...

The Shitastrophy

Massive Messups, Fucked Up Situations And Epic Fails

Barb Best

Follow the Funny with Award-Winning Comedy Writer Barb Best

Christine Nolfi

Heartwarming and Inspiring Fiction

%d bloggers like this: