A line quickly formed out front around 1, so we got up and dragged ourselves over there. The lifeguards had us separate into two lines; one for members and one for people paying cash. It was only $4.50, so we didn't sweat a public pool costing money. Then they told everyone in line that they were required to shower before they got in the pool. That was a little odd. When the lifeguard got up to us, he asked us, "Do you have a swimsuit?" I didn't understand what he was asking me, so I just said yes. "Can I see it?" I told him it was deep in my bag. "I need to see it." So we both had to dig into the bottoms of our bags and pull out some semblance of a swimsuit. I pulled out some shorts, though I was honestly originally planning to just swim in my boxers again. Another lifeguard said, "Those are basketball shorts. Sorry!" I asked him what they meant by "swimsuit" and he pulled on his own swim trunks and said, "Something like these." At the entrance to the place, there was also a sign saying that everyone must have "appropriate swimming attire" for entrance. What? Basically, there was a dress code for this public pool, as if a cost wasn't crazy enough. We threw our things down and sat on the dead grass in defeat. We had been looking forward to swimming since we gave up on sleeping at 6:30 in the morning. It was clear it was just more arbitrary standards set by an upper-class white neighborhood to ensure limited availability of their resources. I sat there angry for a bit and watched as they also told a black man he couldn't come in with his wife and the seventeen kids they had brought with them for the day because he didn't have a swimsuit. It was unbelievable.