It was a bright and shiny afternoon. The sun was out but I couldn’t see it because I worked indoors. So it very well could have been dark.
I was working at the chlorine/child infested waterpark. I was in charge. They gave me a clipboard so you know it was official. Everything was rocking.
We were just about to do the changing of the guards, which looks nothing like this:
I had a lifeguard who was about to start work come up to me.
Me: hey, how’s it going? Have you swiped your time card yet?
Me: gone to the bathroom?
Me: okay, looks like you’re ready to go.
Him: I can’t get in the water today.
Remember how I work at a waterpark? Generally there’s a lot of water there. It comes with the job.
Me: what do you mean you can’t get in the water today?
Him: I can’t take my shirt off.
Him: because I got drunk last night and fell asleep with my shoes on and people drew on me.
Me: let me see.
Not what it looked like.
The images that I saw were totally not appropriate for work, or home, or school and included the most graphic phalluses I’ve ever seen rendered in sharpie.
This is the face I made.
IT. WAS. AWFUL.
The moral of the story is, that job was awful and working with teenagers is about as rewarding as herding cats. Herding cats would have been more satisfying.
Also, I made that lifeguard sit in the water with his shirt on for most of his shift. In the kiddie pool.