I might be the miniture killer

You know you are the product of a truly industrial age when the smell of bleach makes you nostalgic. Whenever I clean with Clorox Clean-up and the bleach fumes fill my nose, I am reminded of Celebrity's - Denver's premier indoor water park - which was torn down at least 10 years ago. It was a fantastic place (water slides, bowling alley, arcade) where any child with a birthday between September and April would have their party. It always smelled strongly of chlorine bleach, even more than other indoor pools. There must have been a lot of children befouling the water or something.

When I was 12, I broke my toe there, but didn't realize it until I got home, because the water had kept my toe cool, numb, and relatively pain free.

When I was 14, I went there with my friend Robyn. I don't remember if it was her birthday or just for fun or what. I do remember her mom and sister being there, so I will assume that it was an event for her and not me. We were playing water volleyball in the pool and having a good time when these two guys came over to talk to us. One was very good looking and the other, not at all. Being a first-rate wingchick, practicing the whole of middle school, I prepared to chat up the unattractive one while Robyn and Senor HotStuff talked. Imagine my surprise when the good looking guy was, in fact, super into me. We flirted and played all afternoon while Robyn and Wingman barely looked at each other. It was the only time that someone sent their wingman after MY friend; it was usually the other way around.

I know Robyn was pissed, because she went out of her way to tell me that she had heard the two boys talking and that Wingman had said to Senor HotStuff that he didn't want "the fat one," but fuck her and her drawn on eyebrows. She knew what was up.

This is what I think of when I clean with bleach.