Entry #5: The Propinquity Effect Gets Wet

I am not a huge fan of water. I do not like interacting with ignorant people. I am not a fast swimmer. My fair skin burns very easily. These are just some basic facts about me. So, when I look back on the four years I spent as a beach lifeguard for my hometown's tourist-packed oceanfront, I often question my motives.

Working for Virginia Beach Lifesaving Service is a lucrative job to some. Many high school and college students from my area live for the rush of dangerous water rescues, enjoy slapping band-aids on tiny cuts, and find a certain joy in telling 50 people a day that, "no, being stung by a jellyfish will not kill you, please do not be afraid."

However, if this fabulous man (o-war) lays tentacles on you, you better start praying.

While my 16-year-old self may not have not fit the bill for a typical VBLS hotshot, I applied anyways. After passing a godawful swim test with one second to spare, getting fitted for the lingerie that was supposed to be a uniform, and receiving my CPR/First-Aid certifications- I was an official beach lifeguard.

I should really divulge that my decision to apply for VBLS in high school was based heavily on the desire I had to make some new friends at the time. To do something exciting. To be challenged. To blow a plastic whistle and command respect. What better way to complete these objectives did I have than to work among Virginia Beach's finest? 

So heroic they only need one plastic lifesaving device.

Social psychologists define the propinquity effect as the tendency for people to form friendships or romantic relationships with those whom they encounter often. Propinquity itself can be the physical proximity of two or more people, a kinship among a group, or a similar nature shared by individuals (think: like attracts like). In the case of my time at Virginia Beach Lifesaving Service, propinquity will be defined as the physical proximity of myself to my fellow lifeguards. In fact, the propinquity effect is seen to often occur in the workplace, because of the frequent interactions employees tend to have.

Dwight and Jim: A perfect example of the propinquity effect in action...
or the rare occurrence of workplace soulmates? 

That first summer at VBLS, I worked hard at making friends. I went to Guard nights at local pizza places, frequented the parties hosted by some of my older colleagues, and was generally the friendliest newbie that VBLS had ever seen. I worked a lot. I was constantly stressed out about the prospect of actually saving lives for a summer job, as seen through my forever bitten-off nails and interminable state of mental anxiety.

However, the friends I made during the summers were what made VBLS worthwhile, or so I believed. I thought that the "elite" lifeguards- those who had worked there for 5 years or more- were the coolest and most beautiful people I had ever laid eyes on. Tanned skin, rock hard abs (male or female), bristling confidence, and skill. While I felt like Patrick Starr in a bikini every time I ran into the ocean, the elite guards made even the toughest water rescues look easy and fun. I yearned to look as good wet as they always seemed to.

"I'm sure your mother will bang me in appreciation for saving you."

Because I worked at VBLS full time, I spent many hours with my fellow lifeguards, elite or not. And because of the propinquity effect, I became friends with and even romantically inclined towards a lot of them. I became attached to one lifeguard in particular, whose name will be changed to Davey Dearest, and whose skills in the realm of ocean rescue far outshined his sadly dimwitted nature. I spent many of my precious breaks traveling down the beach to sit with Davey Dearest on his stand, where I would laugh and joke with him, while he sat and pretended to understand my humor.

Things progressed with DD, and even went so far as him asking me out on a real date, not during work hours. Of course, I readily agreed and raced home after my shift was over to prepare myself for the first night of the rest of my life.

READY!

Long story short- going out with Davey Dearest was not the flowers and candy i thought it would be. It turns out, he was a complete asshole. The fancy dinner he promised me turned out to be French Fries at Sonic and a greasy hand down my pants. Needless to say, it took about a half hour of courting Davey for me to realize that the wedding I had planned in my head was not happening and that getting the hell out of his terrible Jeep Wrangler was my best alternative. I walked/jogged/sprinted to my friend's house and left Davey Dearest to pay the hefty Sonic drive-thru tab and feel guilty. Which I am sure he didn't.

In 1979, a very smart man named Sir Peter Ustinov said, “Contrary to general belief, I do not believe that friends are necessarily the people you like best, they are merely the people who got there first”. This quote rang true for not only Davey Dearest, but 98% of the rest of the VBLS lifeguards as well. I didn't like Davey because of his outstanding morals or above-average regard for woman, I liked him because he was always there. Same with the rest of the VBLS'ers I had gotten close to. These "friends", as lustrous and wonderful as I believed them to be, were actually not my friends at all. Many of the guys (DD included) had a running bet on how many of the female guards they could sleep with by the end of each summer, and almost all of the girls were catty and hateful to anyone who received the coveted male attention.

Red outfits, perfect smiles, evil agendas. VBLS in a nutshell.

Although it may seem like I snapped out of the terrible social side of lifeguarding rather quickly, I sadly did not. As mentioned before, I spent four summers working with some of the most dastardly heroes of all time. I fully believe that the social psych phenomenon of the propinquity effect (the tendency for people to form friendships or romantic relationships with those whom they encounter often) was the reason for not only my continued efforts at being an average lifeguard, but also my continued efforts at making average friends. It was not until I quit VBLS cold turkey last summer that any of these realizations even came to pass through my anxious, waterlogged mind.

To further prove my point:
Let it be known that Davey Dearest never apologized!
Let it be known that half of the lady guards at VBLS didn't even know my name!
Let it be known that propinquity sits in the lifeguard stands of the Virginia Beach oceanfront!

And let it be known that no one looks good in red.