OLD LADY KARMA

So, I was flapping around at water aerobics the other morning, when something I can only describe as opportunistic karma occurred.

Firstly, I need you to be aware that on Mondays, there is the ‘oldies’ class, which Iris does, but before that, is the more advanced class, which I do.

Now, when I started water aerobics, I started in the oldies class, as the time suited me better.  The class wasn’t overly challenging, but the beauty of water aerobics (and any exercise class, really) is that you can go as hard as you like.

Anyway, I can’t remember if I blogged about it before, but a few months ago, when I was participating in the oldies class, the instructor changed the music.  Instead of being shit from the 1950’s, we were suddenly rocking out to stuff from the 1970’s.  T’was awesome.

However, some of the old dears in the class had a conniption fit, and complained so much, that the instructor changed the music.

Fuck me.

So, one of the oldies, who I’ve dubbed Queen Maggie (her hair AND makeup are immaculate, and she wears her big gaudy earrings and necklace to each class), said to me that day ‘The music is terrible, isn’t it?’ to which I replied ‘It doesn’t bother me. It’s something different.’

I was there for an exercise class, not a fucken sing-a-long, so to be quite frank: I didn’t give a shit. 

But she did. 

‘Well, if you want that type of music, you need to go to the earlier class!’ she snapped.  ‘This is a pensioners class, after all!’ and went back to her version of exercise. 

Fucken rude cow! I thought to myself.  If your life is hinging on the type of music being played at your aqua class, then it’s a fucken sad life you lead, Queen Maggie.

I’ve never forgotten those words, because apart from it being totally unnecessary and really rude, it gave me the impression that she felt she ruled the pool.  Hence, the ‘Queen Maggie’ title.

Ever since then, if she’s been in a class with me, I make it my mission to splash her as much as possible.  She’s usually in front of me or beside me, because we’re the same height, so we need to stand around the same depth in the water.  She’s an easy target, and I get some satisfaction out of flattening her do.

Anyway, childish pettiness aside; I found myself flapping about in the advanced class yesterday, when her majesty decided to bless us with her presence.

Naturally, she was in front of me, and as usual, I’m making my casual attempts at ruining her hair, when the instructor started handing out dumbbells for us to use.

Yep.  Dumbbells. 

Instead of being weighted, these fucken things are made of foam, and of course, float.  It takes a fair bit of strength and effort to keep them underwater, and then use them in various exercises like real dumbbells.  Strange as it sounds, these floaties from hell become very heavy.

So, we’re punching away in the water with the floaties from hell, when Queen Maggie turns around to face us commoners, and says ‘I don’t know what she’s thinking!’ Of course, I assumed she meant the instructor.  ‘These are ridiculously difficult to use! It’s far to advanced for this class!’

Really?

I smiled.

‘Speak for yourself, Marg.’ I said sweetly.  ‘If you’re finding it too difficult, maybe you should stick to the pensioner’s class.  This is an advanced class, after all…’

Queen Maggie’s jaw dropped open, and she turned back toward the instructor, and kept going. 

Suck on that, you fucken old biddy, I thought as couple of the ladies around me giggled.

The Queen has just been de-throned.

Peace out.