C'est la France!

I had an interesting experience yesterday. It was something that I half-expected because nearly the same thing had happened to me on a previous trip to France. I found my way to La Piscine Leo Lagrange to swim some laps, paid the entry fee, changed into my swim trunks, showered and headed for the pool without incident. On the way in I saw the sign that I had been dreading in the back of my mind. It contrasted a stencil image of a pair of swim trunks and a red circle with a slash across it, underlined by the word "interdit" with an image of a green mankini. It was at this moment that I flashed back to Chamonix in the summer of 2003.

After a hike around the base of Mont Blanc on a high school trip to France some friends and I decided to head to the public pool to cool off. On the way out of the locker room we were confronted with signs indicating that swim trunks were prohibited, that we had to wear a French "maillot de bain." We were sure it was a joke because we couldn't comprehend why anyone would expend the energy to enforce such an illogical rule. Sure enough, when we entered the pool we were confronted by a French lifeguard wearing a tank top so long it covered his banana hammock, making it seem like he was wearing nothing else at all. He indicated to us, in French that none of really understood at the time, that we couldn't wear what we were wearing in the pool. I asked, "Pourquoi?" and his response was simply, "C'est la France." In the end we were forced to RENT one-size fits all blue speedos which we wore sheepishly all afternoon.

Flash forward to yesterday. I've paid, I've showered, I just want to swim without being hassled so I proceed past the sign into the pool area, hoping my shorts will go unnoticed. I was not so lucky. As I'm hanging my towel over a railing I hear a voice behind me, "Monsieur! Vous ne pouvez pas portez vos shorts dans la piscine. Il faut avoir un maillot de bain." I think about pretending I don't understand, but I know I plan to use the pool all year so I plea to the lifeguard that I've already paid to enter and I don't own what she considers to be a maillot de bain. She reassures me and tells me I can buy one from a vending machine in the lobby. The fact that they have gone to such lengths as to install a speedo vending machine has me convinced that this rule exists simply as an excuse to humiliate American tourists by forcing them to show their disgustingly pale upper-thighs in public.