His motley swim club operation was hampered by all of the lightweights who refused to actually get in the water. They were ready enough to dive into a gluten-free pizza or mango and peanut salad. He noted with mild disgust and mounting bemusement how, particularly among the seniors, once competitive club meets had become mere meet and greets, times for air kisses, the jovial prancing of fond acquaintanceship, cheap wine. To appease him, two of his octogenarian lovebirds held an underwater wedding, the merbride and mergroom swaying amidst the seaweed, their overripe affection rippling toward the surface then the sky.
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