Goggle-eyed

Can you get prescription swimming goggles? I wondered about this as I shared the pool with the Gillingham football team, who were staying at the hotel on Friday night. I would like to take credit for slowing them down sufficiently to be beaten 3-1 by The Mighty Iron*. I'd like to, but I can't.

They'd limped back to Kent by the time I dove back into the pool on Saturday night. There was just me and one other regular. He's there most nights and often just the 2 of us are left ploughing back and forth when most others have long since resumed their Lives. It seems we were the only 2 without better things to do that night.

I love talking to him. I'd flirt were it not for the puce face ( too long in the sauna), hair plastered to my head and the harsh realities of a bathing suit - there's nowhere to hide in one.
I spent a particularly long time chatting on this particular occasion and discovered to my delight that he's unattached. I think my pupils may have dilated slightly as I gracefully launched myself into another lap, savouring this joy and using the possibility of drowning to hide my excitement.

I was still smiling to myself as I headed home, where I dashed upstairs to change into my pyjamas. It was there that the smile froze on my face. As I pulled my new cashmere sweater over my head, I saw with horror what appeared to be the blackest, hairiest armpits one has seen this side of Germany since Nina performed '99 Red Balloons' on Top Of The Pops. The cashmere had shed fibres. I wept.


* Scunthorpe United Football Club, currently riding 7 points clear at the top of the league table and pushing for promotion to the Championship. Apologies for the sudden and gratuitous sporting reference. I shall try not to do it again.