All wet

Maybe a few laps will clear out the old brain bucket? Smoothing back my hair to install my goggles over my eyes, I watch as a girl enters the pool in a long black Islamic swimsuit. I can't help but look -- thought I can't see much because without my glasses I am basically blind. I swim a lap. She is still lounging in the shallow end, her long hair swirling. No it's not. You might imagine it were swirling but instead this theoretical hair either doesn't exist or is tightly held in a cap. Islam! Then through the fog that is my vision I spot what I suppose is her boyfriend. Is he motioning to me? Yes, I suppose he is. Actually he is pointing to me, then I think, to his fist, which he slams into his hand. Menacing! I duck my head back underwater. In the next lane two young Arab boys with almost no hair on their bodies are allowing themselves to sink slowly to the bottom of the deep end, where they scissor their kegs, rising back to the surface, where I watch them emerge, glistening like little Islamic seals, looking really happy. They take off their caps in some kind of weird synchronized flourish? One has long poodle hair. The other has longer poodle hair. They smile at me and sink back to the bottom, each releasing from round mouths these clouds of bubbles.