We were a handful of laps into our swim when I noticed my wife frantically flagging me from the next lane. I stood up.
"Get out!" she said. "Someone pooped in the pool!"
"Is it mine?" I asked (one incident and apparently you have a reputation).
Already out of the pool, she pointed and I submerged to investigate. As I approached the suspicious mound at the bottom of the pool it scattered like a frightened school of fish. Verified. We are out of here! The pool staff member we notified donned black gloves and carried a net. That's not going to work buddy. You're gonna need a vacuum.
"It's not the worst thing that could happen," I mused on the way home. "What about the ones we don't know about? The diarrhea...dissipating in the water like a cloud of squid ink. "
Two scalding decontamination showers later, we were still shivering at the memory of the #2 in lane 2.
