If you've ever wondered where all the germs go to party, I'm pretty sure I figured out their favorite stomping ground. Just visit any given water park, and you'll surely find a whole gaggle of germ dudes and germ dudettes gettin' their freak on. How do I know this? Cause my family just spent this past weekend at one, and I've got the mental scars (and the super sexy fever blister) to prove it.
From the very minute you walk into an indoor water park, your nose is immediately blasted with the overwhelming stench of chlorine -- a total red flag that the water needs to be bleached to high heaven to kill whatever funk is swimming in it. And the air temperature is set at approximately 5000 steamy degrees, giving all forms of bacteria a chance to thoroughly cook and perhaps even multiply a time or two. Throw in a few hundred snot-nosed children and adults, and you've got yourself
a cesspool of germs a fun-filled park of water.
For some peculiar reason, my family seems to think that this environment is the absolute perfect setting for a rockin' good time. I, on the other hand, prefer NOT to swim with parasites. So typically when we go to these God-forsaken places, I watch from a very distant chair as they slide and splash and play. This time, however, I wasn't so lucky. Somehow, I got guilt-tripped into testing out every flippin' chute that was in the joint whether I liked it or not. And believe me, I did NOT like it. Not one little bit.
The first slide I was forced to attempt was what was referred to as a "water coaster", which I soon found out was code for "shoot polluted water in your face AND up your ass at astronomical speeds." Um.......who, pray tell, was the jackhole that thought that an enema was the definition of F-U-N? I can assure you that it is most certainly not. The same could be said for recycled poop water being jetstreamed right at your pearly whites (and I know that it was, in fact, poop water since my husband informed me later on that the pool was closed down for a bit for a "Code Brown").
From there on out, it was pretty much the same thing over and over again. One slippery slope of scum felt no different than all the others, and by about the fourth slide, I was pretty much blind in my left eye from chlorine overdose. I had had more than my fill of bacteria bathing and couldn't wait to scrub it all off me in the shower. Evidently, though, I wasn't able to sterilize myself afterwards quite as much as I'd hoped cause a lovely fever blister has since popped up on my lower lip. What a great freaking souvenir, huh? I now feel like a walking PSA for the dangers of water parks:
** This important message brought to you by Nucking Futs Mama, who clearly swam with doodie bits and other unidentifiable micro-organisms.