Ms. Manatee:: so a while back there was this guy, tall, dark, handsome {no really he was 6'4", dark hair, and really really handsome}, he wanted to go for a late night swim in the lake. Yahoo...this is code for," let's put on minimal clothing, say we are going to go for a swim, but spend all our time "playing" around in the water" right? WRONG.  I carefully chose a cute suit, not one that is completely unflattering, not ones that is too cute, but one Goldilocks would approve of, and it was just right.

We get out of the car, it's too dark for him to see my cute suit. FAIL.  He throws me a swim cap and I realize, this is not amateur swim hour, this guy is serious, no "playing". FAIL. We scramble down the rocks and into the chilly lake. While getting in the late night fisherman on shore looked at us like we were brainless convicts trying to swim from Alcatraz.  Before I know it he is in and gone. It was like watching a flying fish. I don't know if his body actually ever touched the water; I felt like clapping. After closing my mouth and gaining composure, I think, "I have been swimming laps almost all summer, I got this!". Double FAIL. After maybe 20 strokes I quickly realize I am more like a manatee than a flying fish. 

Me....Him...you get the idea

I can't see where I am going, there are waves smacking me every time I try to breath,  gnats are buzzing my ear, and I am not wearing goggles. "I am going to drown", "I knew I should have asked Hannah if there are fresh water sharks", "I hate this....kind of", "what if I happened upon a dead body". Yep looking super hot now MK, back comes the flying fish and I am just a hot mess. Heart racing, sure I am going to drown {even though I can touch bottom}, choking on fish poop water....  "Hey isn't this great, how are you doing?" I wanted to say something clever to disguise my current state, FAIL. "I am freaking out!" happened instead. Manatees Unite. We talked, I chilled, we kept swimming for another 15 min or so then headed back in. I finally am feeling awesome, WHACK "AHHHHHHHHHH" I  hit a body, a real body with my arm. I knew it I knew it, dead body in the water!!! Nope the flying fish just swam in front of me. Freakout #2 was handled rather quickly :) he didn't see. One more awkward exchange with the fishermen who still thought we were nuts and we were back in the car and smelling like lake.

On the ride home I realized my evening turned out better than I thought. Instead of some testosterone driven neanderthal trying to "get some" all night, I was terrified that I would drowned, I thought I ran into a dead body, and I felt like a manatee. Stellar. Moral of the story though: I was put at ease without being made to feel dumb, lame, or whussy. {Not bad flying fish, not bad}. Maybe not all dates have to be Dive Bomb Dates.