Slut of Sankeytank, Deep in Peeve

So S and I decide for the first time try the plebian dip in the big bad public pool of sankey tank. we find theres no space in the one row meant for zee ladies. the row is regularly invaded by male pool sharks who land on this end faking exhaustion obviously taking the female end for succour row. after a head-on collission and handlock with an orange-goggled male, i call him a cow and ask him to decide on his gender. So he breaststrokes himself into the deep end which is just as good. We do the dumb fuck strokes and are whistled out after less than an hour. now heres the part that really gets me wheezing.
We've barely hoisted our slick bods out of the pool when our fatherly (but mallu) ex-coach, sees us heading the long way around the pool to the changingroom. He asks where do we think we're going in our swimsuits when the changingdigs are 3 steps behind us. our bags are on the other end i say and we catwalk. And he cant stop us anyway. What the fuck was that all about - women arent allowed to traipse in the complex in swimsuits? And the men were meant to resplendate in billiard balled glory everywhere. sick shit.
In other news for the heck of driving, went with folks to a Syro-Malabar acreage in Jalahalli village where i watched an aviary with 2 freak doves with feathers on their feet. I mean feathers on their feet so you couldnt see their feet and they walked about and flew and these feathers remained. Dad said maybe they were developing doubledecker wings. And then my brain shifted and I've been feeling strange ever since.