Thursday, August 27, 2009
Summer 2k9: Schlitterbahn (pt. 2)
The final class of human you can find scratching themselves about the park are known as:
Now I don't want to get down on ignorant people in general. Mostly, the families that flock here from the boonies are good natured and keep to their own problems (which usually has to do with figuring out that you can't put sunscreen on your eyes). No, the "mouthbreathers" are a class of ignorance that are loud and generally mean-spirited.
For example, there was a mouthbreather mother who took it upon herself to display her knack for corporal punishment on her 4 mulleted young boys. The boys, bored from having to wait in line, started meander around the borders of the line. The kicker was that the mother, obviously self-conscious about her 4 young boys ability to stand in line on the asphalt in 103 degree weather, thought it would then be more socially acceptable to start screaming at them to come next to her. When they obliged their mom-turned-ogre, she dolled out slaps to the face in front of everyone. With a sniff and a grin at her own handy-work, I was drawn to the irony of a cross hanging around her neck. Those boys got slapped for Jesus!
Perhaps the most difficult part of dealing with mouthbreathers is that they actually run the damn park. Even the generally healthy-looking lifeguard staff mirror the rest of the staff's vacant stares and put-out nature that they have to be there. Look, I know it sucks looking at fatties all day, but you don't have to whistle at me 5 times for jumping in the water or spit in my cheese fries. It actually took me 3 tries to find a member of the staff that could even tell me that the ATM existed in the other park. Mostly they would just answer with an awkward sniff and pointing to another staff member that appeared to be equally mentally challenged by the question. If you find a staff member named "Ted" working the grill at the Boogiebahn-side of the park, look into his eyes. A fucking robot.
It may sound like I had a disastrous time, but actually it was quite fun. The key seems to be just to avoid all contact with people you don't know or want to know. The zen at Schlitterbahn comes from being completely self-sufficient to your own needs. The fatties know, that's why they bring coolers of cold meat and beer. It could be an indication of my own growing agoraphobia and reclusive nature in my Internet fortified man-cave (I hiss at the sun), but then again, Bush did get elected to 2 terms; meeting his constituency was quite illuminating.