Boredom can create the need to dig around for new adventures. When first moving to town, I’d visit Walmart every Monday morning. Bright and early, with the doors opening, I would mask up and make my way around the store. In those days, the shelves were often empty, but as the year progressed, more items became available. I often thought about the olden days, when Walmart had every item known to man, AND toilet paper. As we know, Covid robbed us of that luxury, too.
So, last week, I visited the Walmart to the West. Noticing that Women’s Apparel had a better selection, I made my way around the store. It wasn’t much different from the one in my little town. Only larger. The shelves were just as disheveled as the ones I was used to. I long for the days when shoppers treated merchandise with respect.
Today, I visited the Walmart to the East. What a horse of a different color! I first noticed that the store was spotless. Glad that I was wearing dark glasses, the shine off the floor was dazzling. Walking by the produce department, the fruits and vegetables were fresh and inviting. Being a military town, the shoppers are a different breed. Respectful. Neat. Thoughtful. All immediately notes. But, I was on a mission. Walking straight, I saw what I had come for. Bathing suits.
The purchase of a hot tub is only the beginning of the expenses. Increased power and water bills. Chlorine. Weekly enzymes. pH Up. pH Down. Metal remover. Mineral replacements. Foam Down. Scent Up. Clarifiers. Test strips. All to keep the water sparkling and fresh. It’s a daily chore, checked every morning right after breakfast. Missing a routine water test equates to cloudiness, which is never good.
After all the chemicals are purchased, (keeping in mind the current chlorine shortage), we come to the next expense. Bathing suits.
There is some controversy in the area of swim suits in a spa. Living alone, I could easily slink out to the spa and slither in, rather like a moving shadow. So quietly, that no one would ever hear me enter the water, copying an Olympic high diver as they enter the water with pointed toes that don’t even make a ripple. I could do that. The trees are leafed out. Winterpast is a very secluded place in which I could soak undetected.
But, what of the unexpected knock on the fence? Ninja Neighbor stopping by to check on me? The next door gentleman returning mail delivered to him by mistake? The Jehovah witnesses hoping for a conversion? The Mormon boys on bikes? There I would be stewing in my own juices, so to speak. Unable to answer the door or open the fence, I’d be stuck.
The obvious answer is to amass an assortment of swim suits. A variety of suits, because, if you’ve just one, it’s wet for hours. A dry swim suit is hard enough to shimmy into, let along a clingy, wet one. The following is theater of the mind for your chuckles.
A week after the spa arrived, I found and ordered the cutest swim suit. Something I hadn’t even known was possible. A long-sleeved one-piece swimsuit. As a senior citizen, well weathered, plump, and ready for a harsh winter, I have arm-wings. Other women dream of face lifts or tummy tucks, while I would settle for upper arm reduction. Because of these wings, I seldom wear anything shorter than a 3/4 sleeve. These wings flutter in the breeze. But, in the new suit, I found them to be a younger version. Although still large, my upper arms were now in sausage form. Extremely sleek and dolphin-like, in the cutest suit. The suit has a front zipper, and getting into it reminded me of girdles of the 1900’s. I think today they are called “shape wear”. Whatever. The only shape I become in one is sausage-like.
The suit was adorable, although very, very tight. Feeling I should have scuba gear and a tank, I scurried out to the hot tube began my soak. For winter time, the sleeves were wonderful. Very relaxing. I did feel chic in my new suit and thought about the many other colors that I would order the next day. Because, as everyone knows, getting into a wet suit is miserable, when one soaks multiple times every day.
My new spa shuts off after 15 minutes. Big brother at work, someone has decided no one should ever soak more than 15 minutes. But, just like the alarm reset in the morning, I can reset the thing over and over. So, after a 45 minute soak in the tub, I slithered out and went into the laundry room to take the suit off. A comedy that should have been taped for pay-per-view.
Unzipping it was easy, although, my compressed torso sprung out, leaving the zipper quite strained. It was now that the fun began. I had no idea that the fabric was so clingy. Like a second skin, really. Struggling to loosen it from my shoulder, the struggle was real. I would pull on one side, and the other side would get tighter. Suction was not mentioned on the review of this suit. If I peeled it down, the other side was drawn more tightly to my skin. Add in the fact that my right arm doesn’t work quite right after an old injury, and I was a whirling dervish. I was whirling and twirling, while the suit became tighter and tighter.
I bent a little this way, twisted that way, prayed a bit, and then cursed my decision ever to buy this suit. I longed for the hanging bat wings, not knowing if I would need scissors to extricate myself. All this worry about me falling into the tub and drowning alone. What about my fate trapped in this god-awful suit, unable to move ever again. This went on longer than it should have, but finally, by the grace of god, the thing let loose and fell to the floor. I must add, this will never be my go-to swimsuit.
Back to the swim suit carousel at the Walmart to the East, we return. The selection of suits and cover-ups was dazzling. Just regular suits covering what one would expect. $19.99 can buy you a darling one piece these days. I found two more that I didn’t already own, now having enough to soak 7 different times in the day, while still having a dry suit left to put on.
The rest of the Walmart was just as delightful. Clean. Smiling Associates. Well-stocked shelves. Fresh produce. Just like that, they have a new customer. Driving 10 minutes to the one in my town or 25 minutes to the Walmart to the East is a definite no brainer.
I guess the moral of the story would be to plan for added expenses when splurge on something nice like a spa. The bottom line is that there is nothing more relaxing or soothing than sitting in a hot tub on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada on a beautiful spring night. Don’t go to exotic on suit types. Besides, in the dark, we all have perfect arms. Right?