I hope you enjoyed your workout. I also hope you get some sleep; the bags under your eyes were big enough to pack up the gear from a Cirque du Soleil touring company.

The reason I’m writing you, madam, is that I didn’t appreciate the way you waltzed up to my lane, whistling tunelessly and giving me a “Are you gonna hurry up and get the hell out so I can do my aqua-jogging, you lap-swimming low-life?” look the entire time. I realize that you don’t swim, but I’d like you to know that I was absolutely fucking exhausted after this morning’s workout and not in the mood to hurry. The next time, I’d appreciate it if you did me the common courtesy of asking if I minded sharing the lane rather than hovering above, just waiting for me to haul myself out of the pool. Maybe if you swam instead of just bouncing from one end of the short lane to the other, you’d learn that.

Love and kisses,
-A.