Many years ago, when I worked in Parks and Rec, the bottled water craze had newly infiltrated society. Some coworkers of mine bought into the belief that the tap water they’d been drinking for years was now unhealthy compared to the new bottled water alternatives. My water-drinking associates even preferred certain brands of bottled water over others because, apparently, certain companies made better tasting water. Not than anyone here on earth really makes water; It’s more an art involving filtration. To me, it all just tasted like water.
I also think holding bottled water made people feel attractive. If you compaired a mental snapshot of me drinking water from a tumbler (freshly poured from the tap) to any of my coworkers drinking from one of their branded bottles, 9 times out of 10 times their drinking definitely looked cooler and sexier. Mind you, most of them were young women, fit life guards, and looked both cooler and sexier than me doing almost anything.
Bottled water also became, dare I say, fashionable?! A person might stroll into a room, OR that same person might stroll into a room with a bottled water in hand. Did the person with the bottle look thirsty? No, not really. Did they look prepared? I suppose, but not boy scout overly prepared. That bottled water portrayed the drinker as enlightened, and made statement that tap water and drinking fountains were unfit for their lips (which reminds me of a movie… but read on).
As you may have guessed, bottled water was never important to me. Sadly for both the world and I, neither was fashion. At some point, someone brought it to my attention that evian spelled in reverse was naive. This pretty much solidified in my mind that I would never become a bottled water toting person. It seemed very naive indeed.
Being naive was something I hoped not to be. Try as I might, I couldn’t avoid it forever. In 2000. I moved into a four-plex rental in Edmonton. The buildings were converted military barracks and had huge backyards without fences. At the end of the backyard was the community gravel pad for parking, and at the end of my designated parking was this sign that read DUTCH PARKING ONLY.
I’d never heard of the “dutch parking” term . Did it refer to a method of parking like angle parking? Maybe it was like going dutch on a date? I noticed some of the neighbors parked bumper to bumper, two cars deep. Was that the elusive dutch parking method? This was Edmonton after all, and I was the new guy. Maybe along with Edmonton’s crazy traffic circles, dutch parking might have been a unique regional term.
When the property manager stopped by to have me sign some paperwork, I asked her about dutch parking. She looked confused. I pointed at the sign and wondered out loud what it meant. She rolled her eyes and said, “It would be removed if it bothered me that much.” The light finally went on in my head; it was ethnic humor placed by the previous tenant. Now I was the one rolling my eyes, but at myself.
While writing about bottled water and being naive, drinking fountains came to mind. I can actually remember the few drinking fountains in my life that provided reasonable satisfaction. As a thirsty kid, nothing was more annoying than a drinking fountain that lacked water pressure. Nobody wanted to suck the water from a public fountain. blah! I’d rather have kissed a girl. Later in life, I still rather kiss a gal.
The most memorable drinking fountain movie scene from my youth had to be in Michael J. Fox’s Secret of My Success movie (1987).
I can’t help but smirk at the sappy David Foster tune playing in the background, or how Helen Slater’s hair style looks eerily like Princess Diana, but that was the 80s. Had the movie been shot two or three years later, I doubt she would have been sipping from the drinking fountain. I’m guessing it would have been from a plastic bottled water.