Aquaphilia

6/8/2001

Aquaphilia:
Baptism by Water Cannon

         A couple of friends and I visited a water park (Great America) one weekend in northern California. Chris and Faon had been together for a while and I was their best bud, so the three of us were sure to have a good time.
         Studly Chris with his latin skin was impervious to the sun, and he wore stylish trunks. He was shorter than me by an inch but probably stronger - when we wrestled I had to resort to my superior knowledge of physics, judo, and WWF to maintain a tie. Faon, self-conscious of her pale skin and beautifully-borne weight, wore a tee over her one-piece suit.
         I am neither stylish nor tan, though I abandon self-consciousness when opportunities for fun present themselves. I wore soccer shorts and kept a red soccer tee-shirt to cover my shoulders. I doffed the tee at each of the park's many attractions but was sure to reclaim it before moving on - I couldn't lose my favorite shirt!
         We had to park hell and gone from the entrance. There were just that many people there on a scorching Saturday. It was quite a hike across the hot pavement, and we were glad we brought flip-flops. Faon had a hat, but she was the smart one. My ears were burned by the end of the day. Who remembers to sunscreen ears?

         Inside the place were all sorts of attractions. Some slides, a few rides, many kiddie watergun stations, and of course a huge wave pool. I don't recall going on the slides and rides but we were certain to have hit a few of them. Faon was like a mother, watching and laughing as her two rowdy boys ran off to play. She didn't participate much, and we came up with guesses why. Either she was hungry and wasn't telling us, or she was comfortable and didn't feel like getting wet. Or perhaps another reason, upon which Chris and I seemed to agree through eye contact and secret grins.
         We tested our theory in the kiddie section of the park. Chris held her hand while I manned a water cannon and blasted Faon, who yelped in surprise and moved back. Chris pulled on her arm, trying to keep her in range of the watergun, but Faon was stronger and escaped. Nevertheless, we laughed in victory over her!

         Poor Faon - she knew we wouldn't stop there. The next big attraction in the family area was a pipe maze. There were waterpipes of all configurations sticking up out of the concrete. Levers, switches, and circular handles were placed all over the maze so that people could activate all the sprinklers and showers in the pipes. Theoretically everyone was supposed to get through the whole thing while hosing down other people. But the goal of staying dry was impossible as anyone could see - there were just too many people and too many carwash-like choke points everyone was forced to run through. And inevitably there was some 10-year-old camped out at one lever that activated the carwash, so that no one might miss out on the opportunity to double the weight of his or her swimsuit.
         Faon realized the impossibility of staying dry, too, so she simply refused to enter the maze. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch you at the exit." Chris and I shared a look that said, Yeah, right. We tried to drag her into the maze, but she was on guard and struggled mightily. Finally Chris picked her up and I got her feet so she couldn't kick effectively. She was squealing and cursing, but we were laughing even louder as we toted her through the first entrance arch where some little kid obligingly flipped a switch that soaked us all immediately. We put her down and she stood with her mouth open in surprise at being drenched. Well, she was wet already, so she dived into the competition. We three raced through the maze, stopping only to activate random showers to make sure no one escaped with a dry inch of skin or suit.

         Faon was in great spirits by the time we went through the exit carwash. She was laughing loosely even though all our towels and shirts were now drenched. She held both our hands as we walked around attempting to sun-dry. We were all giddy, smiles booming and hearts still thumping from the race through the maze. Hands joined, we began to receive some suspicious and unwelcome stares from the parents and teenagers. None of us had to say it, but we all realized that we were giving off the impression of a threesome (we weren't that far from San Francisco, either).
         Well, that only encouraged us. I put my arm firmly around Faon's waist, and Chris kept smooching on her whenever a family passed us. When they were gone, we'd all laugh. The word 'taboo' is so fun to say. No wonder people like to challenge them. Just say the word: tabooooooooo. Woohoo. Finally we did a favor for the parents of California and took our trio act out of the family area. It was a great feeling, walking around like that, three hand-holding goobers. These were my best friends and we were having so much fun, completely out of the drudgery of our element during the weekdays.

         Once we were dry, we contributed to the education fund of the park owners' great-grandchildren by purchasing some overpriced concessions. Yes, food. But they're called concessions at concession stands because you're screwed for going elsewhere and must concede to the park's prices. We wound down by finishing our day at the wave pool. As everyone knows, it's brilliant to swim and bodysurf after consuming fast food.
         Our towels finally dry, we hiked to through the parking lot back to the microwave oven - wait, I mean the car. Faon and I found out where we hadn't sunscreened well, and Chris had the good grace not to laugh. I don't remember if that was the weekend we also visited Chris's mother's house, but I remember being glad we had another day before returning to our mind-numbing classes.