Cool Hand Luke

Whilst on our honeymoon two years ago, I discovered that I can hold my breath for a really long time. I didn’t know that it was a really long time until Brandy flipped out about it. When we were in the pool I liked to float on my stomach with my face in the water. I found it very relaxing. The more relaxed I was, the longer I could hold my breath. Brandy timed me and it was over two minutes. She made me squeeze her finger periodically to let her know that I was still conscious.

The other day, Brandy and I went to the YMCA to go swimming. That’s the closest pool that we don’t have to break into. It’s not the greatest situation because it’s always crowded, you usually have to wait for a chair to be open, and there are predominantly kids and older parents there. In other words, we kind of stick out.

After we had been in the water for a bit at the, I resorted to floating on my stomach. I had been floating there, getting in the zone for just a moment when I heard a whistle blow. Then I heard someone jump in the water right next to me. In my mind I rationalized, “Some kid jumped in the water too close to me, so the life guard blew the whistle at him.”

That’s when I felt someone grab me and lift me up out of the water. When I came up, some 17-year-old dude was freaking out telling me I couldn’t hold my breath, and every single person at the pool was staring at me. They obviously thought that I had just drowned and that I was a moron.

The dude kept saying, “You can’t hold your breath. You can’t hold your breath, man.”  Then he said, “Hey you alright?” 

I said, “Yes, let go of me.” 

“You can’t hold your breath, man.”

“Why?”

“You just can’t, it’s the rules. You can’t be holding your breath.”

“I got that. Thanks.”

Eventually he quit causing an unnecessary scene and walked back to his post while everyone else continued to stare at me. I was humiliated.

Apparently the YMCA has a rule that you can’t hold your breath for more than 10 seconds. That’s fine. Did he have to tell me that way? Did he have to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone? What’s even sillier is that I was literally right next to the edge of the pool, so he could have just tapped me on the shoulder.

I found out about they no breath-holding policy because about 45 seconds after the 17-year-old walked off, the big boss walked up. He squatted down next to the pool slowly, pushing his Oakley’s up the bridge of his nose with an index finger.

“You can’t hold your breath.”

“Yes, that’s what I hear.”

“It’s a rule here. You can’t hold your breath.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re not allowed to hold your breath for over 10 seconds.” (That’s child’s play for me.)

Brandy said, “That was really embarrassing for him.”

“Yeah, that’s the rule—that you can’t hold your breath.”

It started to seem like we were talking to robots. We dried off while people still kept staring at us. We felt dumb and left. We haven’t been back since then.

What’s the point of the story? I’m not really sure except that you can’t hold your breath at the YMCA—don’t even try it.