You guys,
Public pools are fucking gross. Especially the ones on vacation where the people using them have no sense of ownership or community and generally just don’t give a damn if something happens to — or rather, in — the pool.
I stand chest-deep in the lukewarm, chlorine-filled, weird-shaped monstrosity and something floats my way. Is it a leaf, a bug, a piece of dirt? Or is it snot, vomit, baby poop?
We’ve got two babies in swim diapers and we know they’re not seal proof. We were in our backyard pool when Layla pooped in a swim diaper. I peeled down the paper-thin protector and little flecks of brown coated the entire inside. What were the odds one of those little flecks seeped outside the diaper and into the water?
Sam immediately shocked the pool and we gave it 24 hours, just to be sure.
We’re staying at the Marriott Beach Club Resort in Palm Beach Shores, Florida, but it doesn’t matter where we are because all the Marriott Beach Club resorts look the same. Three pools, a shuffle board and corn hole station, a stand where some lady braids hair, an outdoor bar with food that resembles my high school cafeteria lunches, and a handful of 7-floor condos next to each other, all nice enough, with outdated furniture, questionable carpets, and a view of the ocean.
I scan the pool. People of all ages swim and play and lounge in the water. Who are these people? Who are the people that choose this as a vacation?
Oh that’s right, we do, every summer with Sam’s family, and when Sam’s parents die, we’ll inherit the timeshare so we can keep doing it, for eternity.
Sam and I talked about letting go of the timeshare when our ideal trips involved food, wine, and 5-star lodging. But now we have kids and rarely drink, so the spacious rooms, beach access, and locations all over the world are suddenly appealing. So I wade through this pool with all the other people who chose the Marriott for their own reasons, and wonder what makes me feel so different from them.
And then David Senra put language around the exact term I was looking for. Instead of thinking of ourselves as “weird,” as Sam always says, Senra referred to everybody else as Casuals.
Casuals are exactly as they sound. They present themselves in a very casual way and have a casual approach to what they do. They float through life, like the people in this pool. When Senra heard about this term, he said, “Once you see it, you see it everywhere,” and now I see it everywhere. I’m not weird. Other people are just Casuals. The opposite of Casuals, Senra added, are “maniacs on a mission.” That’s the camp I’m in, or at least aspire to be in.
We last about 30 minutes in the filmy water, not only because Sam and I are disgusted, but also because we’re holding two toddlers. They push away from us even though they can’t swim, so we’re constantly saving their lives, and saving lives is exhausting. Why don’t you just put them in floaties, you ask? Because last summer George’s swim instructor said floaties for kids are the worst offenders if you ever want them to learn how to swim, and I’ve been against them ever since. But George and Layla still don’t know how to swim. They take lessons in our backyard, and most of the time they’re screaming, not swimming. When I was a kid I wore floaties, and then I learned how to swim, and life was great.
We walk towards our room and cross paths with a teenager with sandy, wavy blond hair. He’s got a towel over his shoulder as he heads toward the pool. He wears a black T-shirt and in thick white bubble letters it reads, “I pee in pools.”
Well there you have it.
Bleecker Bombs
A new podcast episode is out!
It’s another memoir deep dive: Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey.
Listen to the episode on overcast.fm, Spotify, or Google Podcasts.
And if you missed my first deep dive on Wild, by Cheryl Strayed, you can listen to it here.
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Happy 4th of July, you guys. Watch out for those Casuals today.
Charlie
Intrigued by the "casuals" concept. I unfortunately spend a lot of time in these hotels as a traveling speaker, and have seen exactly what you're describing many times. But I often wonder how many people, like you, actually consider themselves to be "maniacs on a mission," who are just temporarily posing as casuals in order to be with family or attend a conference. It seems like I often tell myself I am just posing temporarily for the sake of fitting in where I have to, but then I wonder if I might be more of a "casual" than I care to admit. If I'm honest part of me likes the feeling of getting paid to lounge around in a place that is wearing all the signals of a classy joint, even when it's so apparent that it's a thin veneer on top of cultural fecal matter.
Just had this exact experience last week at Hilton Head, sub in Westin (next door to the Marriot). But my wife and I decided that, from now on, it's Relais and Chateaux or bust! 🤣 (By the way, kudos on the non-floaty policy. I, too, had floaties and swim lessons BUT my kid just had swim lessons....and he's better than me. And safer. There should be a marketing campaign that says "FLOATIES WILL KILL YOUR KIDS!")