Kallan bought one of those ridiculous wheels of gum . . . Hubba Bubba. Big pink plastic container that opens to allow you to unspool lengths of pink sugary chewiness. She had friends over yesterday, and she didn’t want to share the gum with them. And so she left the container of gum here on my desk.
I owe Kallan an entire wheel of gum.
In possibly related news?
My jaw is tired.
I blow awesome bubbles.
I am all kinds of impressed with myself.
Did you know that if you are chewing gum in the bathtub and you lie back in the water so that it covers your face? And then you try to blow a bubble from beneath the water?
That shit doesn’t work.
Something to do with pressure.
Speaking of pressure and stupidity?
I almost drowned.
Actually, I have more than one story about almost drowning, but in the interests of being relatable? I am going to pretend that this event happened only one time. Because, seriously? Who almost drowns three times?
Stupid people, that’s who.
OK, so I used to work as a counselor in a group home for troubled kids. I have mentioned this before, within the context of giving blow jobs to the way-hot nighttime supervisor. Plus also? There was bondage.
OK, focus . . .
That supervisor and I? We were having a lot of sex at the time I almost drowned.
Well, not at the actual moment of drowning . . . because that would suggest that the blow jobs were way more spectacular than I have previously mentioned.
I just mean that we were still in the early stages of our not-really relationship. That part where every gesture is fraught with sexual meaning. Oooooh . . . love that part.
The two of us had recently been switched to day-time responsibilities, and on this particular day? It was our job to take ten small incredibly dysfunctional and sexually inappropriate children to the beach. So not even kidding.
So the two of us were all sincere and responsible and caring and incredibly sexually charged up as we hit the beach with the kids.
And within about ten minutes of arriving at the beach?
One of our incredibly stupid and disobedient children had floated out into the bay on an inflatable ring he had stolen. Jesus fucking christ. We’re here less than ten minutes and we have lost a child.
He wasn’t so very far out in the water, so we yelled at him to paddle back to the shore.
He did not do this. Instead? He began to scream at the top of his lungs about how he was going to die.
Clearly, one of us had to go out and get him. My supervisor and I looked at one another. And because I was all sexually charged up and in the midst of demonstrating to this man that I was completely worth fucking his life over for? I ran out into the water.
I am a decent swimmer, but I am not a great swimmer.
But off I went.
My mind was filled with images of the awesome sex that would soon be coming my way. The sex, truth be told, had not been that great thus far, but hero sex? I figured that shit was going to be amazing.
The kid? Was not so very far away, but as I swam? He drifted farther out.
I tried to scream at him to paddle toward me, but guess what?
He gave me the finger.
Yes, he so fucking did. Little asshole nine year old child gave me the finger.
And that’s when I knew I was in trouble.
He did not need rescuing. He was not going to help me. And I? Was fading fast.
You know what drowning feels like?
It feels stupid.
My memory of that next few minutes of struggling to catch and grab hold of the inflatable ring?
Goes like this . . .
I am the stupidest person in the entire fucking world and I am going to die. I am the stupidest person in the entire fucking world and I am going to die. I am the stupidest person in the entire fucking world and I am going to die.
In an endless thoughtful loop.
Somehow? I managed to grab that ring. Managed to catch hold and then, after a short gasping break, kick us both back to shore. The asshole child who did not need rescuing? Entertained me with tales of how he was pretty sure that if he wanted to? He could reach out and touch my boobs and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.
He was a charmer, that kid.
I could hardly breathe, much less reprimand him.
We made it back to the shore, where no one seemed to have even the slightest inkling of the drama that had just played out in the water.
I walked past everyone with shaking legs to the restroom, where I threw up copious amounts of bay water. Stood trembling for a minute.
And then rejoined the group.
Sat on the grass all wet and miserable.
One of our little Lolitas came over to sit with me. To snuggle up into my side. Offer me a piece of gum.
I blew awesome bubbles for her amusement.
I was all kinds of impressed with myself.
And this morning?
My jaw is tired.