Damn, What a Week

So this week started off some time last week, with me finally getting myself and my instructors ready to go. Then Monday showed up and it was time to teach. Sure, sure, I do love to teach, but really, spring training started off with a bang around here. And teaching on a gimpy toe isn't fun, either.
People forgot to bring their money or they didn't have a credit card to guarantee the payroll deduction. People didn't show up. People showed up who weren't registered. The office called. The other site called. And then the swimming precourses started. And that's when I went from just being another instructor to being the Aquatics Director.

"Uhm, Keira, this guy can't swim."
"Can't swim at all or can't swim the distance."
"Uhm, both?"
"Send him home."
"He said he was promised he'd be certified."
"Tell him we don't promise certification ever, but that he's welcome to work on his endurance and strokes and try again in a couple months."
"Can you tell him?"
"No. I need to get back to my class..."

"Uhm, Keira? This lady had some trouble with her swim."
"Okay, what's the problem?"
"She can't get the brick from the bottom."
"In eight feet of water? How many times has she tried to pick it up?"
"Twice. But she can get it in six feet."
"No dice, send her home."
"She wants to know if she can get CPR certified, then, instead?"
"Fine, just tell her your training schedule. I need to get back to my class again..."

"Uhm, Keira?"
That's it. I'm officially changing my name to "Uhm, Keira" as of today.
"This girl had trouble with the swim."
"What kind of trouble?"
"She can't really do the breaststroke."
"Okay, then here are your options." At this point I'm talking to the girl. "You can't participate in this course because of the precourse requirements, but we can enroll you in another course in a couple weeks at no charge. I recommend that you get some practice in on the breaststroke between now and then. You're welcome to stay here and practice today and for the next couple days, too. Or we can just refund your money."
"Can you tell my mom that, please? She's on the phone"
"Sure." Greaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Glad I didn't say anything inappropriate. "Hi, this is uhm, Keira, the aquatic director..."
"I heard all that. I just don't think it's right that you can test her out of the course on the first day when you haven't taught her to be a lifeguard yet!"
"Ma'am, we're testing her to make sure she has the swimming endurance to be a lifeguard right now, not on her skills as a lifeguard. Your daughter seems to be unfamiliar with the breaststroke, which is required according to course standards."
"It's not because she's fat, is it?"
Holy shit, the mother did NOT just ask me that, did she!? Yeah, she did. "No ma'am. It's simply because she cannot do the breaststroke, which is required, in addition to the front crawl."
"But she can be a lifeguard, right? She's not too fat?"
"She should be quite capable once she can swim, ma'am."
"Because I've seen other friends of hers who are fatter than my daughter and they've passed the lifeguarding course."
"She'll be fine once she learns the breaststroke."

I was hoping and praying all through that last conversation that the daughter could not actually hear her mother. Because that woman must be hell to live with. Sure, the daughter was a bit thicker than Hollywood tells us teenage girls should be. For that matter, I'm a bit thicker than Hollywood tells us I should be. That doesn't mean there is any reason to continue to think that I'm lying to the woman on the phone when I say it's because her daughter can't swim, not because she carries an extra couple pounds. Get over your issues and let your daughter breathe.