Whistling Billy
(I like a little background and a plausible set-up.
Thanks for your patience.
Everybody in this story is at least eighteen years old.
Any resemblance to real people or places is purely coincidental)
My company is "Whistling Billy's Pool Service". My motto is "Your pool will be clean as a whistle!" (Of course, I don't say when!) I'm only 29 which in this business is pretty young. The title Pool Boy seems pretty much of a myth. I know pool guys that are well into their 70's. They're a lot more common than hot strapping 20-year-olds.
In the five years I've been doing pools, I've learned a lot from those old guys about how to make a living at this. If I were filling out a loan application, my job title would be Swimming Pool Service Technician. There's a lot more to it than skimming leaves. Keeping a pool system running involves a lot of equipment and skills and can actually be quite lucrative.
That being said, the day to day business is really quite pleasant. I'm a one-man shop. No employees and no boss! I bring my service equipment in and out through the gate to my customers' back yards, do some cleaning, check some equipment things, test the water and add some chemicals and most of the time that's about it.
A lot of customers I'll see maybe once or twice a year. I take care of the pool and they send me checks. A perfectly satisfactory relationship!
Some customers, though, will come out to chat. This isn't a bad thing. This can be a lonely job if house after house you don't see anyone. Occasionally, I'll go a whole day without any human contact. So, when somebody does come out to say hello, I'm usually happy to see them. As years go by, these casual visits turn into a casual relationship. They'll ask me how my mom's eye surgery came out. I'll ask them how their kid's soccer season is going. We get to know each other a little and it's another nice perk of the job.
I've found there is another class of customer too: single women. Some are widows, some are divorced, some never married. Some have kids, some have a roommate or two, maybe they live with a sister, some live alone. Maybe they got the house in the divorce and need all the help they can get to keep the place up and running. The pool man can play a key part in that. So again, these casual relationships develop.
Once in a while, these women turn out to be not just alone and a little lonely but also horny! That's where I tread very carefully. Just because they are nice people and horny doesn't mean they are attractive.
I was a little shocked one time when this woman who was twice my age and overweight came on to me. She asked me to see if I could figure out why her kitchen garbage disposer wasn't working. She was wearing a knee-length nightgown with a thin robe over it. I sensed some sizeable unrestrained boobs in there somewhere but the rest of the package was unappealing. I recall she had a strong whiff of perfume.
While I was down on the kitchen floor with my head under the sink, she was hovering around. She wasn't really exposing anything (thank God) but she was offering me a peek if I chose to look. I chose not to. I pretended to be dumb as a stump and kept my eyes on the business at hand. I couldn't get the thing to run and told her she would need a plumber. Maybe she had better luck with him.
Sometimes the single woman story goes a different way, though. Sometimes they are quite attractive and easily get my attention without any effort on their part. Maybe not blazing hot but still with a little personality thrown in, I'm interested. Of course, they are still customers that I prefer not to lose so I keep it very low key.
I do whistle. I've always liked to whistle a tune or whistle along with the radio. I don't do it all the time but it's sort of a practice of mine. I'm especially likely to whistle on my way into a backyard. I don't want the customer to think I'm trying to sneak up on them. Now and then, I'll come around the corner of the house to the pool area and the water is still sloshing and there are wet footprints leading to the back patio door. For whatever reason -- nudity? -- they didn't want to see the pool man that day!
So, what am I supposed to think when I whistle and clatter into the back yard and one of these attractive younger women is just laying there on the lounge in a bikini working on her tan?
"Oh, Hi, Billy. I won't be in your way will I?"
That was Pam. We had a casual acquaintance and I knew she was divorced and had two kids in grade school.
"Hi, Pam. No, you're fine." I'm not sure how she took that but I meant it in every way. "I want to thank you for putting away the pool toys. It's a big help."
"No problem, Billy. I'm getting the kids to do it."
I always try to reinforce the behavior when a customer does the right thing. I said, "You are usually so busy. I don't often see you just relaxing."
"You got that right!," she replied. "Wednesday is the only day that's not programmed to the max with school things, soccer, PTA, and so on."
"Are you still working?" I asked.
"Yup. That too. It's only Tuesday and Friday mornings but I gotta fit it in."
By now, she was laying comfortably on her back with one of those little eye cover thingies to keep from burning her eyelids. I understood this to mean she couldn't see me. So, I ogled. She
was
fine. I'd guess 5'-7", and just shy of plump. She was very curvy. I knew she worked at the gym but she wasn't all stringy muscles with sharp corners. She was just fit and, well, delectable. Her boobs looked nice but not real large. I'd never seen her this undressed before but laying on her back, it was hard to get a full sense of her body. I liked the width of her hips but I couldn't tell much about her butt. I kind of wished she'd get up and parade around a little.
She had a nice face, too. Cute but intelligent. And it seemed to me there was a little mischievous glint in her blue eyes. Her hair was reddish brown, auburn it's probably called.
"At the gym, right?" I said. "Tell me again what you do there."
"Pretty much just receptionist. Answer the phones, check people in and out, hand out brochures, stuff like that. The pay is ridiculously low but I get free access to the gym. That's the real reason for doing it."
I took a risk. "Well, looking at you, I'd say you're getting your money's worth out of that gym."
At that moment, I was across the pool from her but she raised her head, took off her eye protectors, looked at me and smiled and said, "Why, Billy, it's nice of you to notice."
I smiled back but was too embarrassed to say anything.
She laid back down, covered her eyes again and said, "You look pretty fit too, Billy. Do you work out?"
"Nah, sloshing this pole around pools all day is a pretty good upper body workout. Also, I play soccer on an adult league once or twice a week. Good for the legs and cardio."
I poured a half a gallon of chlorine in the pool and said, "Give it an hour and it'll be ready for your lap-swim."
"Thanks, Billy."
"Well it was good to see you, Pam," I said meaning it in every way. I took another risk: "And I like the new wardrobe..."
She lifted her head, removed the eye-guard, and with that glint in her eye said, "What? This old thing?"
She gave me a wry smile and said, "Speaking of wardrobe, what ever happened to pool boys wearing those short little athletic shorts. All I see are cargo shorts anymore. I guess those were the good old days, huh."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if you only ever saw them in movies or something. Still, you never know. Styles can change."
"Well, I wouldn't mind a little change." She grinned. "Thanks, Billy, see ya."
I grinned back and said, "Have a good week, Pam," and clattered out the gate.
As my week went by, the pleasant encounter with Pam kept returning to my mind. I had had a fairly serious relationship with a woman that ended almost a year before. I had had a few dates since then but there was nothing really special about them. I even had sex with a couple of the girls. It was fine but nothing really clicked. And now Pam. Really? The divorcée and the pool man: what a cliché! And still...
Little by little, through the next week my mind was wrapping itself around a plan that would be just slightly risky. I rummaged around in my drawer and found some old soccer shorts. They were very basic, just plain blue nylon, not part of an actual uniform. They were a little shorter than uniform ones and a little small for me besides. I usually wore a Hawaiian shirt to work. But I found a white tank top.
So, Wednesday morning, I left for work with the soccer shorts in place of my boxers under cargo shorts and the tank top under the Hawaiian shirt. When I got to Pam's, I wriggled out of the cargo shorts and left the Hawaiian shirt. While I was legally decent, I felt a little exposed. There were no pockets anywhere and I had to leave my wallet and phone behind. I had nothing but my truck keys tucked into the waist band of my shorts.
"Well, here goes!" I thought.
When I came around the corner to the pool deck, I was a relieved to see nobody was there. Then after all that mental buildup, I was a little disappointed. It's a little-known fact that often, due to reflections and light and shadow, the pool man can't see into the windows of the house. Someone could be standing right inside waving and the pool man looks like he's rudely ignoring them. It's just that he can't see. But I sensed movement through the kitchen window which I ignored.
I was working my way around the tile line when the sliding back door opened. It was Pam. She carried out two tall glasses of iced tea and set them on the patio table. She was wearing a light blue men's work shirt closed with a few buttons as a coverup. Her tan and shapely legs looked fine!
She looked at me across the pool and said, "Well, check out that new uniform! I like it. Come over here 'pool boy'. Have some iced tea."
I grinned and headed around to the table. She watched me approach rather blatantly, I thought. It was a little embarrassing. We both sat down and I sipped some of the tea.
She looked at me over her glass and said, "Billy, thank you for taking my wardrobe suggestions to heart! It's very thoughtful of you." She had that radiant smile and that mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Well, Pam, the customer is always right," I said.
"So how is your week going?" she asked as she picked up her glass and took another sip.
