The Bum of the Bay (1)
1150 Words
It's the weekend once more. Time for a little diversion.
I've heard from Berenice that there's a new resort that is being launched today.
The name of the resort: Stonehewn Bay Resort and Country Club.
It's too bad she can't go there for now because she has to help her parents in their gardening work.
That sucks, since I was giddy on seeing her in a cute and sexy swimsuit.
Oh, scratch that. I very much want to see Lilette in a cute and sexy swimsuit.
Where is she now, by the way?
Never mind.
Guess I'll strike this place alone.
Saturday morning.
I eat chocolate cereals for breakfast, and then I decide which stuff I'll bring to the resort.
Swimming pants: check.
Extra clothes and underwear: check.
Goggles: check.
Snorkel: check.
Pocket money for the food I'll buy: check.
All done.
And before one asks, I can't swim.
But at least I can frolic in the varying pools I'll encounter.
One bus ride later...
I arrive at the front gate of the resort.
The appearance of the entire place seems to be exquisitely decorated, on par with a chain of famous amusement parks.
Right in front of the gate are other people lining up for tickets, waiting for the 11am opening time.
As I sigh, I'll resign to the fact that I'll endure some ultraviolet radiation for some hours (by the way, my arrival time is 9am), even though the resort's management has put up tents in the cue lines to mitigate sun exposure.
I wait... and wait... and wait...
...until the clock ticks 11, and the resort is finally open after a brief ribbon-cutting ceremony by the resort's owner.
No sooner do the throngs of people file neatly towards the entrance to finally get to soak up the sun, so to speak.
I follow their motions.
Alright. Now that I'm inside, which pool should I hit first?
I prefer something not so populated.
Hmm... maybe that moderately-size pool over there near some palm trees will suffice.
As I make my way to that pool, with the help of signs strategically placed in the walkways, I stumble upon a familiar girl.
She wears red-framed glasses, has a cute face that is undoubtedly East Asian (and complements her Japanese surname and ancestry), and wears a black two-piece sporty swimsuit.
“Hey, Nellie! How are you doing?”
Naturally, she is surprised that I easily recognize her, despite her not knowing who I am at first.
“And I'm sorry if I didn't introduce myself first. Here, I'm Bernard Whitman. I saw you on the news these past few days.”
“Aw, thanks. Good thing other people don't spot me so far despite my face being plastered all over the news.”
“Heh, it's all a matter of respecting one's private space. So, where are you heading to, by the way?”
“That pool with the palm trees surrounding it.”
“Great! I'm also going there.”
“Well then, should we go together... Bernard?”
I reply with a sincere smile.
Minutes later, Nellie and I land in the pool we fancy, and I've already changed into my swimming outfit.
“Before we take a dip, I want to know more about you. You seem like a pretty approachable guy.”
“Why not?”
And so here we are, chilling side-by-side at the pool side's chaise longues.
“Well now, Bernard. You have a job, right?”
“Yeah. As a medical transcriptionist. I'm not aiming to become a full-blown doctor or something, even though that was one of my childhood dreams. Turns out there are many other medical professions out there that don't involve dealing with patients everyday.”
“Sounds really nice. Me? I love to write a lot about what happened in a particular day, and thus I keep several diaries ever since I was a wee kid. That penchant for writing events led me to pursuing the career of journalism.”
“Nice. You get to keep that childhood dream. Many others don't have that luxury.”
“Thanks for the compliment. Considering what happened to Valerio, I feel sorry for him. We're both passionate about our future careers like many others, but sometimes we need a reality check every now and then. There will always be paradigm shifts that force some of us to switch careers, all in the name of the pursuit of happiness.”
“True that. In the end, all we want is to make ourselves and others around us happy. There are so many ways to do that, yeah.”
“Well, our conversation's getting a little heavy now. I feel you're itching for a dip, right?”
“Hah. You sure can read my mind. So then... let's go!”
Nellie and I waste no time enjoying each other as our bodies touch the pool's waters.
Clean, crisp, and refreshing. The stuff we want in pool water to rest our weary souls.
Meanwhile... in a much larger pool on the southwest corner of the resort...
...the hooded figure sees in disgust an attempt by a man to empty his bladder right in the pool itself.
They witness that disgusting act from behind a water slide.
“Ugh! Some people really never learn, even after reading the many warning signs here. They still treat swimming pools as huge toilets, even though the CDC has warned against that distasteful mindset many times. Don't they know that pee reduces chlorine that is used to kill germs in the water, and it can also generate chemicals that irritate the skin, eyes, and nose? Ugh... It sucks there are no lifeguards catching them in the act right now. Oh well, I'll create my own.”
The figure hoists the object up high; and from the water that is left stagnant on the pool side, a water-elemental surfer fish monster is born.
“Now, Bay Bum. Show those urine-splatting bums who's boss!”
The monster replies in the language it can only speak.
“Bloob bloob bloooooob!”
As the hooded figure leaves without a trace, the Bay Bum starts detecting notorious pee-releasing swimmers in the pool he is in.
With his excellent scanning capabilities, he discovers ten of these.
No sooner does he manipulate the water in the pool to create ten watery nooses that lock on the necks of the unfortunate ten, before he raises them all high above the pool.
One of the victims shouts in pain...
“You pesky slimy fish lifeguard! I have bladder incontinence! Don't you dare pick on my medical condition!”
The Bay Bum objects in his own language: “Bloob bloob bloooooob bloob!”
Naturally, the other swimmers all leave the pool screaming in the presence of such a threatening monster.
Yes, I can see it now, as I'm still having fun with Nellie in the pool we're in.
I am slowly being inducted into the Church of Cute Swimsuits and the Girls Who Wear Them, after years of rejecting its call.
I am slowly imagining Berenice, or even Lilette, or even my old classmate Lina whom I've recently learned from my interactions with her on social media that she's aiming to become a professional model – wearing these exquisitely-designed pieces of cloth that cover the so-called “sensitive parts”.
I am slowly thinking of having raunchy times with the three of them, in a private island resort.
My fantasies are then being interrupted by the screams of terror coming from the other swimmers who evacuated from the resort's other pools.
- Writer
