Bunin
05-12-2017, 08:19 AM
A bit of background information:
I work in a hockey arena department with a municipality (rotate through two rinks), as well as a live theatre, as I put myself through some university work. One of the hockey rinks I work at, is connected to a leisure centre, which contains a: two rinks, a gym, two field houses (for indoor soccer et cetera), two basketball courts, many multipurpose rooms, and a pool.
This evening at work, it was a unique experience to observe the different athletic cultures. In my end of the building on one ice surface I got figure skaters practice for their upcoming end of the year carnival; while on the other ice surface is a spring hockey camp. Down the way in the field houses, lacrosse games are doing on; while in the pool is a swim practice.
I had an interesting encounter with the building being so full. While doing my rounds through the building, I chased unruly lacrosse players out of the stands, and as I made my way to the lobby, there were five young adults hanging out nearby a rink door, four boys and a girl. I thought it slightly suspicious at first, but noticed they were wearing a track jacket so thought nothing of it, as I made my way down the stairs. The closer I got, it became apparent these individuals were not wearing pants (or so I thought), and therefore were not hockey players. I approached, and asked if I could help them. They turned around. The three guys were between 5’12 and 6’2 roughly, while the girl was 5’5 -- and responded pleasantly with a no. I noticed they were each wearing flip flops (sandals) and one of the guys (the blonde one) noticed me eying each of them up rather suspiciously, so he unzipped his coat to reveal his bright blue and yellow side stripped speedo (which looked small with a narrow cut on the hips), and said: “no worries man, we’re dressed -- just in our swim suits.” The other guys followed suit, and unzipped their coats to reveal the same small swim brief covering them, and they each smiled, as my face went beet red. They asked if they could hang out as it was cooler then the pool was at the moment, and I said sure. The girl excused herself, claiming to be too cold. I told them they were more than welcome to stay, as long as they didn’t cause any problems or become a nuisance; after which I told them I need to go fill the machine, which they immediately took interest in, and asked if they could see the Zamboni. I said sure, but you might want some pants it gets cold fast; they all laughed and said “our shorts are back in the locker room – we’re good in these, besides we got our coats.”
So there I am walking back to the Zamboni room with four speedo clad guys following behind, coats unzipped proudly displaying their apparel. Some of the hockey players stopped and starred, others snickered, but most were too busy chasing the puck. So in the Zamboni room we go. The guys are thrilled – like kids; and ask if they can sit on it and I said okay whatever, but they should take their coats off or zip them up, so not to get hocked on the arm rest or a hose. They took their coats off, and they took their turns on sitting on the machine laughing and enjoying themselves. I said well the machine is filling I got to flood in twenty minutes, so I am going to the office, and they each jumped down grab their coats and follow suit.
The five us now are sitting in the office, three guys on some chairs the fourth resting against a wall. Each of them have their coats off, and are just relaxing away. They asked about the machine, like why the flood water is extremely hot, and I responded that it’s because hot water freezes faster on the ice, and gives it a nice sheen. As we began to sit silently I asked about their suits. I said how come you don’t wear what the Olympic athletes wear, or the bike shorts. The shorter one of the group with brown hair, and a bit of bangs said: “the Olympians wear ‘technical suits,’ – and we all used to wear jammers, until this year. This year we went with the traditional brief suit, and we love’em, we’re not shy and we really like these suits. Our coach was surprised by our decision, but gave us them anyway. Some of the younger teenagers and that are starting to go to briefs now too.”
I feigning ignorance said: “briefs what do you mean by briefs? I thought they were called speedos.”
The blonde (whose standing) said: “speedo is a brand; these are actually called swim briefs.” I replied with an oh interesting, before asking further: “what made you switch then from jammers to briefs?”
The black haired one (or really dark brown haired one) sitting the furthest responded: “it was a dare at first by Robin [the brown haired guy with the bangs], that we’d give it a go, but after a few practices we learned to really like them, they allow a lot of movement in the water, and flexibility, and we find them more comfortable.” I responded by nodding my head and thinking.
The blonde guy then asked if I played sports growing up – or still do, and assumed I played/play hockey because I work in a hockey rink. I responded no, and to his surprise most of us who work there: a) didn’t play hockey, b) dislike hockey players (trust me their gross), c) and generally don’t watch hockey. I said I didn’t play sports growing up, I didn’t have the money. So the black haired guy asks if I could play a sport, what would I play? I said I’d probably really like water polo or maybe swimming, but I don’t know how to swim.
Needless to say my swim brief clad guests broke out in shock, with many repeated questions: what do you mean you don’t know how to swim. Which I responded fairly, that I doubt we had the money, or I just didn’t want to, being a shy kid.
“Well, we’ll teach you then.” I guffawed at that statement, and said, at the age of 26 I am too old, and besides I am sure I am a hell of a lot older than any of them. Well it turns out, the youngest is 19 and the oldest is 24.
So out of curiosity, I said, if I were to take you up on your offer, how much would it cost.
The brown haired one says nothing, which the blonde haired one chirps in: “but you’d have to wear one of our suits.” Come again was my instant reply. He said: “you would need to wear some swim briefs if you wanted the four of us to teach you.” I laughed it off and said, be aware, I am chubby, it’s not just the hoodie and long sleeve shirt. To which the brown haired guy goes: “its not about fashion or being really thin. It’s practical.” At which point the four of them stand up, and blonde guy starts pointing out on the others and his own suit, that it’s tight and fits close to the body reducing drag – plus [he lifts his right leg] it allows for greater freedom and movement in the water. I [feigning ignorance again] then said doesn’t it crush your junk; and next thing I know he grabs his balls and says no, it keeps the boys in place and shows them off, just like my butt, as he turned around, then invited me to feel his butt, I politely declined because I was at work. Joking aside though they said, they’d teach me, but the catch was to wear briefs – I do own a pair, but they’re more private for me, and around the back yard (which is quite private). I said I’d think about it, and we laughed. I told them though it was time for me to flood shortly, and they said okay, they needed to get back to the pool, so they zipped their coats up and were about to leave before the brown haired guy turned around and said, we have a meet this Saturday here (at the buildings pool) you should come, I told him if I wasn’t working I’d come, and asked what time, he said in the morning it started about nine. Alright I said, I’ll see if I can come.
The rest of the night went on as usual, in mundane fashion, trashed rooms, telling the hockey players their half hour is up lets go.
But as I was leaving the building after locking up, who do I see in the parking lot in their swim briefs and t-shirts, coats hanging over their arms, but the four swimmers again. I asked coyly where their shorts were, and they laughed and said they were too hot to wear their shorts, and I said it’s going to rain – which they responded we’re not afraid of water, and we all laughed. They told me to think about their offer, and they hoped I could make it Saturday, if I don’t work, and that I do have a political science essay do. They laughed and said no excuses, please come, to which we parted, by shaking hands, and the blonde guys chuckles and says: “you’re not working now, care to feel my ass – it’s a little damp.” I laugh and said maybe another time, when we go out for dinner and beers or something. He laughed and we parted ways.
What a unique day.
I work in a hockey arena department with a municipality (rotate through two rinks), as well as a live theatre, as I put myself through some university work. One of the hockey rinks I work at, is connected to a leisure centre, which contains a: two rinks, a gym, two field houses (for indoor soccer et cetera), two basketball courts, many multipurpose rooms, and a pool.
This evening at work, it was a unique experience to observe the different athletic cultures. In my end of the building on one ice surface I got figure skaters practice for their upcoming end of the year carnival; while on the other ice surface is a spring hockey camp. Down the way in the field houses, lacrosse games are doing on; while in the pool is a swim practice.
I had an interesting encounter with the building being so full. While doing my rounds through the building, I chased unruly lacrosse players out of the stands, and as I made my way to the lobby, there were five young adults hanging out nearby a rink door, four boys and a girl. I thought it slightly suspicious at first, but noticed they were wearing a track jacket so thought nothing of it, as I made my way down the stairs. The closer I got, it became apparent these individuals were not wearing pants (or so I thought), and therefore were not hockey players. I approached, and asked if I could help them. They turned around. The three guys were between 5’12 and 6’2 roughly, while the girl was 5’5 -- and responded pleasantly with a no. I noticed they were each wearing flip flops (sandals) and one of the guys (the blonde one) noticed me eying each of them up rather suspiciously, so he unzipped his coat to reveal his bright blue and yellow side stripped speedo (which looked small with a narrow cut on the hips), and said: “no worries man, we’re dressed -- just in our swim suits.” The other guys followed suit, and unzipped their coats to reveal the same small swim brief covering them, and they each smiled, as my face went beet red. They asked if they could hang out as it was cooler then the pool was at the moment, and I said sure. The girl excused herself, claiming to be too cold. I told them they were more than welcome to stay, as long as they didn’t cause any problems or become a nuisance; after which I told them I need to go fill the machine, which they immediately took interest in, and asked if they could see the Zamboni. I said sure, but you might want some pants it gets cold fast; they all laughed and said “our shorts are back in the locker room – we’re good in these, besides we got our coats.”
So there I am walking back to the Zamboni room with four speedo clad guys following behind, coats unzipped proudly displaying their apparel. Some of the hockey players stopped and starred, others snickered, but most were too busy chasing the puck. So in the Zamboni room we go. The guys are thrilled – like kids; and ask if they can sit on it and I said okay whatever, but they should take their coats off or zip them up, so not to get hocked on the arm rest or a hose. They took their coats off, and they took their turns on sitting on the machine laughing and enjoying themselves. I said well the machine is filling I got to flood in twenty minutes, so I am going to the office, and they each jumped down grab their coats and follow suit.
The five us now are sitting in the office, three guys on some chairs the fourth resting against a wall. Each of them have their coats off, and are just relaxing away. They asked about the machine, like why the flood water is extremely hot, and I responded that it’s because hot water freezes faster on the ice, and gives it a nice sheen. As we began to sit silently I asked about their suits. I said how come you don’t wear what the Olympic athletes wear, or the bike shorts. The shorter one of the group with brown hair, and a bit of bangs said: “the Olympians wear ‘technical suits,’ – and we all used to wear jammers, until this year. This year we went with the traditional brief suit, and we love’em, we’re not shy and we really like these suits. Our coach was surprised by our decision, but gave us them anyway. Some of the younger teenagers and that are starting to go to briefs now too.”
I feigning ignorance said: “briefs what do you mean by briefs? I thought they were called speedos.”
The blonde (whose standing) said: “speedo is a brand; these are actually called swim briefs.” I replied with an oh interesting, before asking further: “what made you switch then from jammers to briefs?”
The black haired one (or really dark brown haired one) sitting the furthest responded: “it was a dare at first by Robin [the brown haired guy with the bangs], that we’d give it a go, but after a few practices we learned to really like them, they allow a lot of movement in the water, and flexibility, and we find them more comfortable.” I responded by nodding my head and thinking.
The blonde guy then asked if I played sports growing up – or still do, and assumed I played/play hockey because I work in a hockey rink. I responded no, and to his surprise most of us who work there: a) didn’t play hockey, b) dislike hockey players (trust me their gross), c) and generally don’t watch hockey. I said I didn’t play sports growing up, I didn’t have the money. So the black haired guy asks if I could play a sport, what would I play? I said I’d probably really like water polo or maybe swimming, but I don’t know how to swim.
Needless to say my swim brief clad guests broke out in shock, with many repeated questions: what do you mean you don’t know how to swim. Which I responded fairly, that I doubt we had the money, or I just didn’t want to, being a shy kid.
“Well, we’ll teach you then.” I guffawed at that statement, and said, at the age of 26 I am too old, and besides I am sure I am a hell of a lot older than any of them. Well it turns out, the youngest is 19 and the oldest is 24.
So out of curiosity, I said, if I were to take you up on your offer, how much would it cost.
The brown haired one says nothing, which the blonde haired one chirps in: “but you’d have to wear one of our suits.” Come again was my instant reply. He said: “you would need to wear some swim briefs if you wanted the four of us to teach you.” I laughed it off and said, be aware, I am chubby, it’s not just the hoodie and long sleeve shirt. To which the brown haired guy goes: “its not about fashion or being really thin. It’s practical.” At which point the four of them stand up, and blonde guy starts pointing out on the others and his own suit, that it’s tight and fits close to the body reducing drag – plus [he lifts his right leg] it allows for greater freedom and movement in the water. I [feigning ignorance again] then said doesn’t it crush your junk; and next thing I know he grabs his balls and says no, it keeps the boys in place and shows them off, just like my butt, as he turned around, then invited me to feel his butt, I politely declined because I was at work. Joking aside though they said, they’d teach me, but the catch was to wear briefs – I do own a pair, but they’re more private for me, and around the back yard (which is quite private). I said I’d think about it, and we laughed. I told them though it was time for me to flood shortly, and they said okay, they needed to get back to the pool, so they zipped their coats up and were about to leave before the brown haired guy turned around and said, we have a meet this Saturday here (at the buildings pool) you should come, I told him if I wasn’t working I’d come, and asked what time, he said in the morning it started about nine. Alright I said, I’ll see if I can come.
The rest of the night went on as usual, in mundane fashion, trashed rooms, telling the hockey players their half hour is up lets go.
But as I was leaving the building after locking up, who do I see in the parking lot in their swim briefs and t-shirts, coats hanging over their arms, but the four swimmers again. I asked coyly where their shorts were, and they laughed and said they were too hot to wear their shorts, and I said it’s going to rain – which they responded we’re not afraid of water, and we all laughed. They told me to think about their offer, and they hoped I could make it Saturday, if I don’t work, and that I do have a political science essay do. They laughed and said no excuses, please come, to which we parted, by shaking hands, and the blonde guys chuckles and says: “you’re not working now, care to feel my ass – it’s a little damp.” I laugh and said maybe another time, when we go out for dinner and beers or something. He laughed and we parted ways.
What a unique day.