Two Slaps

I’m trying to keep up with my boyfriend at State and 31st. “Please slow down”, I beg, feeling a shooting pain from the bottom of my left foot to my lower back. If you do not know what sciatica is, you are lucky. The sciatic nerve runs from your lower back all the way down to your heel. It is searing, entire body-gripping pain. I am sweating with discomfort, even as the rain starts to come down. We parked about a mile away from the Shedd Aquarium to avoid paying for parking, I’d pay a hundred dollars for a cab right now. “It really hurts, please slow down”. “It’s raining, Jill, hurry up or we’ll be soaked”. “BE” soaked? I was soaked, all the way through the socks.

I am miserable, which is not the way I thought I would feel on the day I’m meeting an ACTUAL WHALE. That’s right, I was on my way to have a “beluga whale experience” that my boyfriend had gifted me for my birthday. I was thrilled when I opened the brochure. Hugging wild animals is one of my favorite things, and though I’ve actually dreamed of hugging a baby humpback whale in the wild, I would settle for a tame beluga hanging in a private pool. My boyfriend isn’t going to have the “experience”, which automatically feels like a bummer. They let him come into the back room where a loud-mouthed Shedd employee teaches us the etiquette of befriending a whale, no petting unless instructed. I was confident that the whale would choose me as her love and I would ride her out in front of everyone at the Shedd!

Then came the waders. Every other suburban girl was there with a suburban guy, and when they brought the “lady-sized” waders out, I finally snapped out of my pain only to realize I would have to put these waders on for a 6 foot size 4, as a 5 foot zero, size 14. “I think I need a bigger pair”, I whispered to loud mouth. “WHAT’S THAT, YOUNG LADY? NO, TRUST ME THESE WILL FIT. JUST TRY. THEY FIT ALL THE LADIES!”. Everyone looked at me, especially my boyfriend who wasn’t being embarrassingly suited up. Loud mouth had to relent after actively trying to squeeze me into the “LADY-SIZED” ones. God knows what the category was of the ones that fit, “THESE FIT ALL THE WHALE PEOPLE!”. The ones in my size also corresponded to someone far taller. I thought waders would be a break, as they always look loose and comfy on hot girls in the photos they sent me. Mine were so, so tight and too long.

They marched us in front of all the aquarium plebs: look what they are doing beyond your sight! Ohhhhhhh! I humiliatingly squeaked along the side of the tank in my new rubber sheath dress, tight, tight, tight on my legs. Now my sciatica is getting so painful under the constriction it’s gone to my head, like when you’re in so much pain you can’t even remember what day it is. When I ease out into the salt water the waders tighten with the change in pressure “THAT’S NORMAL EVERYONE!”. I gasp when I enter the pool, like I’m being shrink-wrapped. My pain is so bad I try to keep all of my weight off the left side of my body by hopping on my right foot. Then the beluga swims in! Oh my god, get over it, Jill. It’s a whale!!! You want to hug a whale, you’ve wanted to hug a whale ever since you adopted one from a Bubbalicious wrapper in 5th grade. You want to save a whale from a life without your love.

Everyone say hello to Kimalu! I’m allowed to touch her, she feels like a raw hotdog. The whale went to the trainer and did a little spin and got a fish on her fleshy pink, serrated tongue. Then Kimalu, went down the line of us, couples laughing together as they pet her. A whale whose name means “someone special” in the Inuit language? God, I’m even a third wheel to this whale.

Slap the water once and Kimalu will make a squeal or bark or whatever whales do. Slap the water twice if…what? What was twice? I had been consumed by my pain again. Everyone did once, and I felt like fuck it, don’t we all want to see what two slaps is all about? Kimalu gave a terrifying piercing sound from deep in her throat in my face and then spit a shockingly powerful stream of salt water out of her weird mouth right into my goddamn eyes. Not only do I have salt water in my eye now, but my mascara is starting to slide down my face, burning my eyes even more. WHY the fuck would that even be an option?! Now I was in pain and humiliated three times over:

1) the sciatica

2) the waders

3) fucking salt water in my eye

I lose my balance a little as I am on one leg and my ill-fitting waders start to let water in. It’s like I’m stuck in a used condom. I am ready for my whale playdate to be over when the trainers says, OH WHAT’S THAT KIMALU IS BRINGING OVER? I hope it’s morphine, but Jennifer or Breanna or Chloe looks perfectly surprised. And I see why there was no two slap whale spit in her face. Brad or Chad look on expectantly. Kimalu pushes over a black waterproof box, Brad or Chad takes it, pries it open awkwardly and proposes to Jennifer or Breanna. And then the half dozen of us had to feign excitement for an engagement that she just can’t wait to post on Instagram. Then we have to pose with the whale. “Look over here! Snap! Smile more! Can you smile more?”. I cannot, neither can the girls who weren’t proposed to by their Chads. I haul myself out of the water, perhaps lucky my mascara is running as now I am actually crying.

I make it back to the training room, peel off my waders only to have ol’ loud mouth from before say, “HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO GET WET, GIRL?”. The question is more, “Who would really notice if I drowned you in the private pool and had Kimalu bring me a drink while I do it?”. I put my wet shoes back on, pants wet now too. I walk out of the training room to my boyfriend with a huge smile, the most relaxed I can muster. “How was it?!”. “It was so perfect, babe.” My shoes squished as we walked around. “Are those still wet?”, he asks. “No, they’re fine. Everything is fine”. Two slaps.