Canadians - the nice Nazis

Hey there.

Believe it or not, we're still here. In spite of general blogging slackness (notwithstanding Rachel's recent Florida update) we're still out here in lovely (read smelly) Hamilton batting away as the weather heats up. In fact it's getting quite warm at the moment. We saw off the last of the snow about 3 months ago and now we're within a few weeks of the summer solstice already! Time flies when you're having fun.

Since it's hot, I decided today to resume my Monday evening swimming exercise, which I had discontinued months ago due to having too many things on weeknights. I discovered that the usual session I had been going to had moved to an hour earlier, so said swimming didn't eventuate and I'll need to leave work a little earlier next Monday if I'm to get that to work.

Oh well. It's a pretty good deal really. You see, what I do is I turn up to the swimming pool for some part of the hour of open swimming that's advertised on their website. It's really meant for members of the student union, which of course I'm not, so I'm actually expected to make a sizeable donation to their coffers every so often. The thing is, even though the charges and subcharges and membership fees and supercharges and ubercharges are spelled out in meticulous detail on the website, there doesn't seem to be any way to actually pay them money.

Almost a year ago when I first went to the McMaster pool, I stopped at the front counter just outside the turnstiles and got my wallet ready while I asked the cashier to remind me how much it was. The cashier looked dumbfounded, and eventually settled on some excuse about "umm I don't think you have to pay this week, just go on through". By then I've noticed that people are walking through the turnstiles in both directions and they don't appear to prevent anyone from going anywhere. Okay fine, well maybe someone further in is the person I'm supposed to pay. I vaguely remember there being a contact name on the internet so there must be someone responsible for collecting monies. On through the winding hallways, past the squash courts and the gym, til I find a place that looks like the locker room area. There's another counter and a couple of undergrad-looking people there. I ask again about who I'm supposed to pay to use the pool and again get a confused look of "huh? I didn't think this job required me to actually know anything...?", and they direct me to the locker rooms, so on I go. Okay so I've got this far without anyone so much as asking me to show a student card -interesting! I get changed and carry my gear through to the poolside area, and finally there's a guy sitting behind a table looking like he's actually in charge! But of course as I approach it becomes clear that he's really: "don't ask me man, I'm just .... sittin' here". (I would have said working, but if he was incapable of telling me anything useful about the open swim session currently going on right in front of all of us, then what job could he possibly have been working?)

Fine! So on I swim wondering what the deal is. A free swim I guess! I don't feel great about taking something that's worth money and not paying for it, but what can I do? Shoving a handful of twenties down a drainpipe in the shower room as penance wouldn't really help anyone, would it? And in the umpteen times I've gone back, feeling sometimes sheepish and sometimes delightfully naughty, I've never ever been challenged.

"Excuse me sir, you're clearly not a student of McMaster. We can tell by your complete lack of student demeanour! What right do you have to be here? Guards, escort this man off the premises immediately!"

Canadians have these ridiculously complicated bureaucracies that they love to construct. But when push comes to shove, they're really just nice people who want to come up and say hello. Are they even the same people? Are they some sort of were-creatures who are nice by day and then turn into Nazi rules-lawyers by night who put up signs everywhere saying you're not allowed to do anything? And do they actually abide by these rules themselves? As I rarely see anyone suffering the consequences of not following the rules, I have no idea...

Today, upon returning to the pool after my hiatus of several months, I thought my luck had finally run out. The usual door to the locker room was locked and looked like it had swipe card access. Okay, so at last they've cracked down. Well it was good while it lasted. Guess I'd better try once again to find someone who I can bribe to get into the pool.

But then, another student walked past and looked at the door the same way I had. He spoke up and told me that they're renovating and to try around the corner. He sounded quite convinced that I actually had a right to be there, and so a glimmer of hope reappeared.

Round the corner then, and the glass door had a sign saying "Do Not Enter". Oh well. Once again, thwarted. Clearly I'm not supposed to be here. But read on... "Emergency Exit Only, Door is Wired to Alarm" - well I guess that really does apply to everyone, not just Ben the felon. And then, through the glass, a door opens off to the side, and a man in his board shorts with a towel over his shoulder emerges and walks down the hallway toward where I know the pool area is. Okay, so there's a "secret entrance" now! They're getting trickier! Can I find my way to where the secret entrance is?

So back down the maze of pathways, back past the gym and the squash courts, toward where the main entrance is. It suddenly hits me! It's not a conspiracy to expose cheaters like me at all, they've just been doing renovations to upgrade their locker rooms! The old locker rooms were pretty ancient after all. I hold my breath once more as I walk past the main desk and observe that there is nobody stamping tickets on the way in - successfully evaded the authorities again! Arrright!

A makeshift sign says this way to change rooms - good!

Then around a corner, and the choice of two sets of double doors. Which one goes to the pool? I don't see any obvious signs, so I walk toward one set and just as I reach for the handle, a girl who has come in behind me says "Uh, that's the ladies, the men's is over there." Right! Okay then the other set of doors! That was a little close for comfort. Surely somebody must suspect that I'm really a fraud sooner or later with all these slip ups! Why, any real uni student would surely just know, without the prompting of mere "signs", which way they were supposed to go, right? I must have given myself away, and security is on their way right now...

Anyway, into the men's locker room and, good heavens this is like a level out of Quake!? The passages just go on and on and there seem to be so many places for space marines and demons alike to be lurking. Actually, back to reality, it's just a change room, but it looks like it's fitted out with enough space to host the olympics. I just keep walking, through the locker area, past the showers, and past the signs saying that each patron absolutely must take a shower, including salient washing details, and on through to the double doors to the pool.

Okay, so now finally I'm in the home stretch! I'm back into a part of the building that is actually familiar and on way to the pool. But wait - look at the speed at which those swimmers are attacking their lengths! They're not casual swimmers! I've seen this before when I've come 5 minutes early for the open session - they're doing drills! But too late now, the lifeguard is already hailing me, and the swim coach, seeing me hesitate, calls out to me. Here we are! I'm finally busted right at what might have been the moment of triumph. It's plain that I'm not supposed to be here, and now I'm caught....

Wait, what did he say?

"You're in the right place! Come join us! Hi! I'm Steve!" (Offers a handshake which I accept.)

"I'm Ben. Uh, is this the open session?"

"No, this is the triathlete training session."

"Right, didn't there used to be an open session on now? I haven't been here in a while."

"Oh, that's from 4-5pm during the summer break." (As opposed to the 5-6pm I was accustomed to. Fine!) "But if you like you can join us here, if you want to join in the drills?"

"Uh, thanks, that's okay, I'm a bit out of practice, so I just want to warm up slowly. I'll come back next week - a bit earlier perhaps!" (Smile! Remember, it's not a lie if you believe it! So says the famous George Costanza.)

May I also point out that it must have been perfectly obvious that I hadn't showered on the way out to the pool, as instructed. I hadn't even grabbed a handful of water on the way past to make my hair look wet. But nobody seemed to care!

I walk away, and the lifeguard also says hi on the way past. What nice people! They really just want people to get into the sport. Which is great!

It's a good idea not to judge Canadians by the signs you see around the place - you'd totally get the wrong idea about how laid back they are. They're not Nazis, they just make rules and signs like Nazis. And not even useful signs like "Cashier" or "Men's Change Room", just signs with rules that they don't enforce!