The Yankee who couldn’t swim

I find myself always telling stories about Southern folks, but this one is about a retired Yankee. This fellow was from Michigan and had put in 27 long years at a Detroit factory before retiring. He took his life’s savings, moved to Florida and bought a house with a swimming pool in a very affluent neighborhood. All his working years, he’d dreamed of having a house with a pool.

The neighborhood, he soon learned, was practically infested with doctors—about 90% of the residents were medical professionals, and all of them had nice pools. He also discovered a nightly ritual: midnight skinny-dipping. From his patio, he’d watch and listen as, just before midnight, naked bodies sailed off rooftops and splashed loudly into the water.

One hot July night, as he sat listening, he decided to join the fun. He and his wife hadn’t exactly received the warmest welcome, and he hoped participating might help him fit in. So he peeled off his T-shirt and shorts and climbed—slowly and with great effort—onto his roof. Weighing just over 300 pounds, this was no small feat. But he finally made it and stood there, as naked as a jaybird, poised above his pool.

Excited about what he was about to do, it never crossed his mind that he didn’t know how to swim. He got a running start, launched himself off the roof, and performed a perfect belly-buster into the pool. Water splashed high enough to hit the rooftops, alarming his next-door neighbor, an inhalation and respiratory specialist who weighed maybe 127 pounds. Looking through his redwood fence, the specialist saw his neighbor flailing and yelling, “Help! Help! I can’t swim!”

By the time the specialist got there, the retiree had gone under twice and was choking. The doctor jumped in, and by some miracle managed to get the heavy man to the edge of the pool—but couldn’t lift him out. The retiree’s head and arms rested on the poolside while the rest of his body stayed underwater. He coughed and sputtered as the specialist began administering resuscitation.

The specialist worked frantically. Each time he pushed on the man’s upper back, a stream of water burst from his mouth. He continued, unaware he was being watched by a man in coveralls leaning against the house, calmly eating an apple—until the man spoke.

“You’re doing that all wrong, you know,” the man said between bites.

“What? All wrong?” the specialist replied, still pressing as another spurt of water left the retiree’s mouth.

“I’ll have you know I specialize in inhalation and respiratory medicine and have been in practice here for 18 years,” the specialist said, breathless as he worked.

“Don’t make no difference,” the apple-eater replied. “You’re still doing it all wrong.”

“Oh yeah? Well who are you? Are you a doctor?”

“Nope. I’m just a plumber. And I can tell you one thing for sure: if you don’t get that guy’s behind out of the water, you’re gonna pump the pool dry.”