If you live in Wisconsin, you have surely found yourself at a water park at least once in your lifetime. You have splashed in the wave pools, floated down the lazy river, and slid down tube slides with names like Anaconda, Black Death, and other such terms meant to simultaneously incite terror and excite your endorphins.
I was at one of these waterparks with a group of friends when we were all happily playing in the large wave pool. We bobbed up and down in the waves and splashed each other as we gleefully smiled and giggled. We were all enjoying ourselves when I spotted “it” bobbing on the waves – edging ever nearer to me. The object seemed determined to approach me, skillfully making its way among skinny teenage girls in bikinis and overweight old men in highly inappropriate speedos. Were my eyes deceiving me? I hoped this was the case as the small white object heaved itself up to the top of a wave and then dipped momentarily back underneath the water. As the wave brought the white, cotton item back above the surface, however, it became abundantly clear what now floated just inches from me. I looked around for anyone to save me from my most certain impending doom.
|No Hero Here!|
I spotted a young employee – wearing sunglasses and the red swim trunks that identified him as staff. He had a whistle around his neck that made him seem important despite his scrawny body and teenaged acne. I hollered up to him hoping for a hero, “Hey! Hey, kid! There’s a tampon in the water!” I yelled frantically while pointing at the foreign object, which I assumed was dispelled as some female plunged down one of those terrifying slides like the Anaconda.
I hoped he would dive into the water and scoop up the object, promptly removing it and thus freeing me to enjoy the rest of this time with my friends. Rather, he looked at me, looked at the object, and then shrugged his shoulders as he stated, “Meh. It will be floating down the lazy river pretty soon.”
I yelled back at him, “Ugh! That’s soooooo gross!” but he once again only shrugged and ignored me.
Was something wrong with me? Did I need to just calm the fuck down? I mean, what’s a little tampon floating in the water really? At least it wasn’t a turd. Maybe I need to just learn not to sweat the small stuff. “Keep calm and carry on,” right? No; no. That shit was gross, and that little fucker was lazier than the river the tampon was soon to be floating upon, according to his expertise.
So, no, I didn’t keep calm and float on. I left the wave pool and continued to complain about that lazy little bastard who just shrugged his shoulders at me. As I now recall my encounter with the employee of the fucking year, I can only hope that if you have likewise been to a waterpark and are able to readily recall your time in the wave pool, may those memories not be sullied by a defector tampon because “Ugh! That’s sooooo gross!”