Water Park

Hundreds of people have fallen ill after splashing around in an upstate NY water park called Seneca Lake Park's Sprayground. Boy oh boy. Huge shocker there. I never would've guessed it. "Sprayground?" Isn't that what they call a vermin infested bean field?

I'm reminded of the time when I went on my eighth grade graduation trip to the local water park. It had been built over the remains of a deserted airfield, debris from which was still strewn all over the patch of land between the parking lot and the waterslides. We got out of the bus and ate lunch at the picnic tables by the lot when we first arrived. There was a little round pond by the lot with a slim pie slice roped off as the swimming area. Within ten minutes of our sitting down to eat, a frantic kid from another school trip burst from the water crying, covered in orange paint.

When we got to the slides, we all noticed that even the water flowing down the slides, at less than half an inch deep, was tinged slightly green. One of the three slides was merely a chain of whirlpools, each as murky as the next, bubbling with a head of mealy foam. Thankfully, none of our number fell ill, but I'm sure having been exposed to the concentration of chemicals it must have taken to keep the waterborne cess from sickening us shortened our lifespans by a year or two. This was the first and last time I have ever been to a water park.

It's amazing that these giant-sized, constantly-flushing urinals don't putrefy every living thing within a fifty meter radius, let alone those who actually dare get in.