a good number
The old-timey regulars who come every day to the swimming pool are partial to certain routines, like always using the same shower and putting their towel in the same cubby. My friend who worked in the Akureyri swimming pool as a teenager said she had to memorize which locker numbers went with which old timer, so that as they trickled in each afternoon, she'd hand each one the right locker key.
I witnessed a flavor of this the other day. As I was returning to my locker from the showers, I heard a gravelly voice behind me, talking to nobody but himself. "Níutíu og átta," he said, satisfied. "Þetta er gott númer." ("Ninety-eight. That's a good number.") And he opened the locker door to hang his coat inside.
I was chuckling away to myself about this, until I remembered that I am partial to #74.
I witnessed a flavor of this the other day. As I was returning to my locker from the showers, I heard a gravelly voice behind me, talking to nobody but himself. "Níutíu og átta," he said, satisfied. "Þetta er gott númer." ("Ninety-eight. That's a good number.") And he opened the locker door to hang his coat inside.
I was chuckling away to myself about this, until I remembered that I am partial to #74.
posted by JB at 14.1.06
3 Comments:
Jared you'r getting old......
AS
I do this too... yesterday I picked a number that sounded good and I couldn't think why, until I realised it was my old phone exchange in college (283). The only exception to this "good number" behavior for me is if someone else has just used the locker and the strap for the key is all swampy and wet. I hate that.
I hate the swampy key straps too. But sometimes, before the Great Key Changeover at Laugardalslaug, I would be forced to use one, because it was either that or an old broken strap. So in these cases, I'd take the soggy key to the shower and warm it up there before putting it on my ankle. It's one way around the Soggy Syndrome.
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