Scuba with the Scouts

Joel's on my case about never posting on my blog. But I'm intimidated. His blog is hilarious. He finds the craziest (and also slightly offensive) stuff on the Internet and posts it with commentary on "The Greatest Blog in the Galaxy." If you haven't checked it out, and you are not easily offended by jokes about the WNBA, you really should check it out.

So, on to the real point of this post. For my birthday this year, I recieved SCUBA lessons at Scuba Ted's in Springville. This is one of those things I probably never would have thought of doing on my own, but now that I'm doing it, it makes perfect sense, and I thoroughly enjoy it. However, my scuba lessons are further proof that I have a terrible sense of timing, and God has a heck of a sense of humor.

I originally scheduled my classes for June 3rd, but that afternoon, Ted called to let me know that they didn't have enough folks to hold the class, and it would have to be rescheduled. No problem. The Monday/Wednesday classes wouldn't work with my schedule, so I told them I'd take the next available Tuesday/Thursday slot, which would start two weeks later on the 17th. Apparently there was some confusion about that, though. When I arrived at Scuba Ted's that evening, the instructor who was there asked me if I was in Jared's class. I said I guessed so, all I knew was that I was supposed to start my classes on the 17th, so there I was, ready to go. That's when Ted came in, and Ryan (the instructor) asked him about Jared's class. Ted said, "What class? Jared's not teaching a class tonight."

So, how bad can it be, right? There's another class scheduled, why not just join that one, right? Which was one of the options they gave me. Join Ryan's class, or reschedule again. I didn't want to reschedule again. What I didn't know, is that Ryan's class is a boy scout troop. Yep, you read that right. My scuba class is four 15 year old boys, their two leaders, and me.

I'm actually fairly certain that, like spiders, rodents, snakes and other creepy little critters, the scouts are more afraid of me than I am of them. Not that they're creepy little critters. In fact, they're kind of charming in an awkward, adolescent boy kind of way. They say crazy stuff about underwater torches and divers holding chickens (don't ask), and I swear we have to do everything three times to accommodate for the inevitably short teenage attention spans, but it has been fun. Not fun enough for me to open water dive with them at Blue Lake (where, apparently, you have to haul your scuba gear, tank and all, over the trail to get to the dive site) but fun nevertheless.

It's kind of ironic, really. When I asked the Lord to help me meet some new men, I meant fully-grown ones. Guess I'll be far more specific next time.