How a Speedo Changed my Life

Speedos are more uncomfortable than they look.

In our society, if one were to wear a Speedo to a public place, they would receive some interesting stares. On the contrary, in France someone would be kicked out of the public pool for not adorning one.

While living in France over a summer, I went to a pool with some friends and I showed up in my typical knee-length swimsuit. The lady at the front desk stopped me, saying that it was interdit (forbidden) to wear a suit similar to what I was wearing. She rudely pointed at a sign over her shoulder.

On this sign were two little boys. On the left side was a little frowning child sporting a similar shorts-style suit as mine with a giant "X" mark through it. On the right side was an exuberantly happy child with his hands on his waist, proudly wearing his speedo. At this moment I came to a realization that I would be faced with the decision to leave my comfort zone completely.

I asked one of my friends if he had a spare suit I could borrow, to which he reached deep into his bag and pulled out a small, blue speedo. Just my luck.

As I changed into my borrowed speedo, a lot of thoughts crossed through my mind. How does one walk while wearing a speedo? Sit? Bend over? Then I realized that the real reason I was there that day was not to wear a speedo, but to swim. The speedo was a means to which I would accomplish this goal, and with that I proudly marched out of the locker room in my tight-fitting suit.

As I peered over the edge of the pool, I realized that I would be joining the French ranks as one of their own. A smile itched its way over my face as I realized what I was about to do. What a story! What an adventure! What overcame me at the moment must have been a sight to see. I was suddenly an Olympic diver preparing for the dive of a lifetime. My mother would be proud of me, I thought as I raised my arms to jump headfirst into the pool. How good I must look in this Speedo! My shoulders arced back as if to compliment my otherwise perfect form. With confidence as my wings, I gracefully dove into the frigid water. The landing was not as elegant as one would have hoped, and the Speedo had its way of telling you.

Regardless I swam around and was having a great time with my friends in the pool. Once we had gotten our fill with water activities, my friends decided to embark on a new adventure - the waterslide.

It stood five stories above the surrounding area and I could see little French people in the distance hurtling down the beast, screaming the entire way. I was reluctant but my friends were persistent. I climbed the five stories and anxiously looked down the snaking slide. Without thinking twice I jumped in.

Turns out that French waterslides are a bit different than other waterslides. This one had clearly been assembled piece-by-piece, which meant that every five feet or so there was a significant bump. In a regular suit or with other protective padding this would be fine, but in a speedo you are infinitely more exposed. It is a lot like being thrown down a rocky hill - in your underwear. Now I understood why everyone was screaming.

Arriving at the bottom of the slide, a bit sore and without breath, I vowed never to go down a French waterslide again. The rest of the day was quite enjoyable, and I even had a picnic lunch outside of the pool while still in my Speedo. It was a great cultural experience and I learned how to adapt in new situations.

As I walked past the front desk I looked again at the sign of the child proudly wearing his speedo, and this time I realized why the little boy was smiling.