"Delicious Darren"

I have to give the credit to "G", one of the women with whom I swim, because she coined the term for this absolutely beautiful young man.  "How are we going to remember his name?" I asked her the other morning.  "How about Delicious Darren?" she suggested.  Perfect. 

So that is what he has remained because he really is delicious to look at -- which is more than I can say for myself and most of the rest of us in the lanes -- except for "B", the only guy who should be legally permitted to wear a Speedo in public.  After chatting with "delicious" between laps over a number of weeks, we finally introduced ourselves.  The thing about this young man is that he is so polite, something I can't say for many others at the Y.  Young men today are just so rude and disrespectful.  They don't hold the door, they don't ever say, "after you" and they don't speak when spoken to.  Pathetic.  A man held the door for me this morning, but he was middle-aged so that explained it. 

There is a chatting/pecking order at the pool.  Firstly, you have to be a pretty good swimmer for the regulars to talk to you.  Secondly, you have to have a sense of humour (sadly lacking in so many today) and thirdly, you better not swim in the "fast" lane unless you are actually fast.  There is also the matter of who talks to whom?  M talks to me because R does; B talks to me because E does; T talks to me because L does and LA shows me great respect by flipping me the bird every time she sees me.  "OMG," exclaimed someone the other day.  "That woman just flipped you the bird!"  "I know and it's a great compliment because she's a multiple Iron Man," I explained.  "She doesn't flip just anyone the bird, you know." 

G and I told "delicious" what we had decided to dub him and he laughed in appreciation.  Now, if anyone had told a young woman she was "delicious", she'd probably sue them for a million dollars. 

No one is having any fun anymore -- except I.