Your Average Scumbag And A European-Style Pool

The first time I looked through the cracks into the topless pool where I would eventually work, I felt a surge. I imagined feeling the same as those mythical men in France who found that miraculous hole in the wall - the hole that looked into where the naked ladies danced.

The pool was the architectural equivalent of a Vegas Showgirl, offering implied goods and services, never to be. It was another Vegas-tease in the land of flawed promises.

A meticulous inspection beyond the velvet ropes led to only two conclusions: whatever was going on in there involved women in bikinis, and it was making a lot of noise. Like a creature in a low-budget B movie, with all its shadows, odd grunts, and indiscriminate screams, the real details would be left to depraved imaginations.

I had to know the secret.

It was love at first glance. I wanted to work there from the moment I laid eyes on this particular European-style bathing facility. In Vegas vernacular, “European Style” bathing is defined as women having the option to do it like they do it in Europe, without tops - an option very interesting to us poor, prudish saplings with North American addresses.

Then again, drunken girls will get any male mind in a state of agitation, no matter the return address, so my twisted, oversexed imagination determined this was the best marketing ploy in the land that was a marketing ploy.

I had to be the guy with the wheelbarrow collecting used towels at the end of the day, but there was really no other job on Earth I ever wanted more. Suddenly I could not quite grasp toiling away in conditions that did not involve topless women running amok.