Today Tamara and I decided to invite a friend to join us at the Watermine, a local swimming hole with a lazy river.
I’m glad we had a coupon, because the admission was $13 for each person 48 inches high or above otherwise. I guess we now know the official height one must be in order to be considered an adult. Given that the outside temperature was melting pavement, there were a lot of people there.
The primary ride, aside from slides, is the lazy river. It encompasses the swimming pool, taking about 10 minutes to make a full lap in “float mode.” The lazy river can be ridden as long as one likes, and to heighten the fun, they throw in inner tubes. Of which there were four.
Try as we might, we didn’t get one — that was until one little kid got swept under due to a current (or my foot – though I can’t be sure), freeing the raft for the next rider. Me.
One thing the trip confirmed for me was that Americans, as a whole, have a serious weight problem. In this environment, I looked like a hulking rock star with ripped abs of steel, and Tamara was an anorexic groupie. I also learned that icebergs are not the only things that show one third of their mass when put in water. There are times one just should not look below the surface of the water, nor look upon what was beached.
Unfortunately, we got to do both because thunder sounded in the distance, forcing a 30 minute pool closure and evacuation of the area. This 30 minute counter reset every time there was a thunder clap or lightning strike. And, given that thunder claps were happening every 15 seconds, it was unlikely we were going to return to the pool.
We had been there for less than an hour. But luckily, it was possible to get a rain check. It took a quick check with management, a receipt, everyone in our party being present, a wait in line, and a number of thunderclaps to get it to happen. But soon we were leaving with three orange tickets to return sometime later.
I got in the car, passenger side, and rolled down the window an inch to let the hot air out. No sooner than we were out of the parking lot and sitting at the first intersection waiting for the light when I felt something fall into my lap. It was wet and gooey.
Thought #1: Something had fallen from the visor? However, my bathing suit now had a big purple blotch right next to the crotch.
Thought #2: What did they throw at me trying to be funny? This stuff made a horrible mess and splattered all over my suit.
Thought #3: The realization as to what had actually happened…
A bird had been flying overhead and let fly with a mulberry-poo dropping. The trajectory was high speed and perfect, as it shot though the lone one-inch crack in the window, missing the glass, the roof, and landing squarely in my lap with a startling splatter.
This, by the way is not the time to learn you don’t have any napkins in the car.
This, is also not the time to be in dire need of a restroom.
Nor, and I cannot stress this enough, is this the time to discover that your wife is laughing her ass off, while your friend has his cell phone out and is relaying events to his call list.