Pissing in Pools I & II

Written on July 28th, 2006

I relive my childhood stance on taking a piss in pools. And become a hypocrite. Also, breaking into the same pool a second time with THE ITALIAN and her hostess "Calypso" on The Italian's last night in Virginia. In other news, I was in the city today and I saw a guy get out of his car on a side-street. He held up a sign that said something like "Abortion kills babies." I flicked him off. If he has the right to voice his opinion on the side of the road, I have the right to voice my opinion from a car.

Pissing in Pools I

    When I was a kid, I never pissed in the pool. At a young age, that was a detestable crime and all around atrocity. Babies peed in pools. Babies and elderly women from Visicare commercials. In my life, urine was not actually involved in the event that caused my hatred for pool-pissers. In fact, it was the act of some fat kid shitting in the pool that persuaded me.

    Running in the water, the three-foot depth range, I remember my leg colliding with something soft and maluable. I looked down and saw something brown. Before picking it up(I wasn't sure what it was), one of the life-guards noticed and blew his whistle twice, calling for a momentary evacuation of the pool. I don't know if you've ever seen pool employees deal with submerged fecal matter, but they take it seriously-- this is their little version of Chernobyl.  Someone scooped it out with extreme caution, using one of those long-poled nets, while, in the background, several lifeguards scramble for anti-bacterial solvent.  Rushing over, the leader of the lifeguards, Clay, who looked like a GI-Joe action figure, tells everyone to stand back.  He saturates the already chlorine-rich water with the solvent. No amount of chemical cleanliness could retrieve my leg's shit-touching innocence, though. My shit had never, and still has never, touched my leg, so it was NOT okay that someone else's had. I was scarred and from that point on, people letting things loose from their bodies while in a public water-hole was absolutely unnacceptable in my book.

But things change.

    Jump 11 or 12 years later, and there I am at the same exact pool in Greenfield, standing on the water's edge, wang flopped completely out, pissing into the pool as if it were a giant toilet. My giant toilet! Because I am all that is man! Or so I figured at the time, as I was drunk. And what you think during inhebriation is truth. It was a pretty uneventful night and Horatio and I were bored, so we started walking around the neighborhood, throwing back vodka every so often. We started getting to that agreeable state that only the best of drunks can achieve. If we wanted to take a direction that the other didn't, one of us would pose the question, "Do you have any reasonable objections to going this way?" The answer was always "no," and as soon as we got deep into Greenfield(the neighborhood parallel to our own), we started heading to the pool, because that's a good destination. As we approached it:

Hunter:"I have to pee"
Horatio:"Then you should pee, man."
Hunter:"No, I have to pee in that," pointing to the fenced-in pool.

We drink more and laugh. This is ridiculous. Over the fence we go, avoiding what basically amounts to spikes. So there I am peeing in the pool that made me hate pool-pissers. Whatever.

Horatio:"If we need to dip, there's a deck over there we can hop over."
Hunter:"Not true. That thing has a deadly drop off"
He goes and checks it out.
Horatio:"Haha, Jesus, thaaaat's about 20 feet of sheer death."
Hunter:"Yeah, man, I used to go to this pool when I was younger. I remember a kid took a dump in this pool once."
Horatio:"Gross."
Hunter:"Yeah"

Pissing in Pools II: The Breaking of the Quadfecta

    The Quadfecta is something that was formed awhile back, but never verbalized until The Italian's last night here. It didn't really need saying, but the "mommy" or "caretaker" of the group, a half-Asian/half-Russian girl we'll call "Calypso," after the sea nymph in the Odyssey, did say it. This is the same girl who, months earlier, wanted some meat from the Hunter Deli, but couldn't get it, thus going on to Plan B--another guy. Since then she has played the cockblock game, safeguarding all of her friends and aquaintences from my vicious penis. Or whatever she thinks she's doing. She makes up for this by being a natural born mother-figure for the people she hangs out with. She brings everyone chasers, drinks responsibly(by which I mean not at all, sometimes, so as to drive people), and so on.

    Enough background information. Basically, she called Horatio, The Italian, herself, and myself the "Quadfecta." See also: "Team Awesome." And let's be honest, I'm pretty awesome by myself. You add an Italian that can outdrink me from time to time, a chick who brings everyone chasers because she's looking out for the well being of her friends, and Horatio my long-time friend-- Yes, Team Awesome indeed.

    Sadly, Quadfecta's first night out was also its last. For now.

    One thing on The Italian's list of things to do while here, other than Horatio(which didn't happen, though she obsesses about him all.the.time), was break into a pool and swim at night. Perfect. Horatio and I had just done this the other night, minus the swimming. We(actually just Calypso) throws together some tequila and Sprite-chasers, meets us on our road, and we begin the night, retracing steps taken not long ago:

    The Italian(with accent):"I don't want to drink, I want to remember this"
Calypso and Horatio try to smooth talk her into drinking. She does.
The Italian(with accent):"I don't want to drink anymore, I really want to remember this"
Calypso and Horatio try to get her to drink more. We all decided not to drink too much, but for me "too much" is a pretty loose term, so I've already had four "Hunter Shots" before we hit Greenfield. I've had enough by this point to become really nice, so I tell Calypso and Horatio to cut the peer-pressure. The two of them have this thing about teaming up on people with less collective will than themselves. They think they're funny, and usually they're right.
Hunter:"If she doesn't want anymore, she's not going to have anymore."
They either listen to me, or were already backing down. I honestly don't even know if they heard me or cared, but in my drunken glow I feel noble.

    So we get to the pool and hop the fence like last time. Also, like last time, breaking into the pool feels natural with alcohol in our blood. Also, loud belly-flops feel natural, but probably disturb neighboring households. Calypso gets me all paranoid with her discouraging protests against said bellyflops. Turns out that, although it maybe an hour or so before hand, Horatio and I still had leftover paranoia from smoking. Calypso reassures me that, as long as we're quiet, we have nothing to worry about.  The Pot Monster, as I'll henceforth call it, leaves my mind, and I begin to really enjoy myself. 
   
    At some point I challenge Calypso to a race from one end of the pool and back. This ends up louder than any belly-flop could manage.  We splash(and I flail) our way across the pool and back, because, as everyone knows, loudness is the key to secrecy.  Horatio and The Italian wade in horror as we generate a tidal wave of noise, summoning several dogs to bark in the distance.  Oops, time to go.  After we gather our shit and make a break for it, Calypso comments on how well she kicked my ass in the race.  But, we all know who was the real champ.  I peed in the pool.

   

feliz sería que hora