As a new member of "senior leadership" in the 309th Missile Maintenance Group, I was asked to do a half-hour stint in a dunk tank during our Unit Picnic today.
:shakehead:
Today was bright and warm, a nice day for a picnic.
I'm assuming these dunk tanks are set up the morning of, and filled on the spot. I assume this as (a) leaving a full dunk tank in a park overnight is a good way to drown a kid and earn a lawsuit, and (b) the water was COLDER than physically possible for H2O in liquid form! I sat down on the platform and, being tall, my feet were already in the cryogenic solution. They turned visibly blue in 20 seconds, started to cramp up but then suddenly I couldn't even feel them; ah.
I was the second-to-last dunkee to go, I figured the picnic would've broken up by then, but there were a few folks still hanging around. Lotsa faces. Lotsa familiar faces! Like, every person that worked with me, and my boss, and my coworkers, and my coworkers at Tooele, dammit where'd all these people come from?!? :bat: Dora was up first. Bless her heart, she couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a ball. Or a second ball. Or a third ball. Or even the last ba
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
I finally managed to get in some oxygen, re-latch the sitting platform, and crawl onto it. I looked up and
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
Then a real cute brunette in a red top :naughty:, whom I'd been looking at the whole afternoon, stepped up with four balls and started throwing. She hadn't thrown at anyone else yet, and I started daydreaming that she just wanted to see me in a wet t-shirt, muscles rippling thru the gossamer cotton fabri
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
I crawled back onto the platform, wet t-shirt clinging, and she dropped the remaining balls and ran off screaming into the night. And it wasn't even night.
This went on for, I'd guess, twenty minutes. My boss, way back at the end of the park, yelled, "Hey Botch, do I get a Freebie if I throw the ball from here?" Well, ain't no way that old man can hit the target from there, so I yell "SURE!" He misses the target, the tank itself, possibly even the Zip code. I yell, "Have another Freebie!" He looks at me, grins (uh oh) winds up like Sandy Koufax, and
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
Finally, I receive the signal that my time's up. I had trouble climbing down the ladder as I couldn't feel my feet, the rungs, my hands, or my breath. My coworker Jeff approaches (he's the next guy in the booth) and he asked if it was cold. I gave him a full bear hug and screamed "It's so cold, Jeff, HOLD ME!" (It's rare on an Air Force Base that you can get away with that)
The day was hot enough that once I was out of the tank I wasn't shivering, but in a brilliant choice demonstrating superior intelligence and Leadership, I had worn denim cutoffs which never did really dry. I did remember to bring a towel to throw over my seat when I drove home.
Sitting in a dunk tank was not on my bucket list, but I've never done it before, I have now, and I'll never do it again. I just wish I could get the feeling back in my feet again...
:shakehead:
Today was bright and warm, a nice day for a picnic.
I'm assuming these dunk tanks are set up the morning of, and filled on the spot. I assume this as (a) leaving a full dunk tank in a park overnight is a good way to drown a kid and earn a lawsuit, and (b) the water was COLDER than physically possible for H2O in liquid form! I sat down on the platform and, being tall, my feet were already in the cryogenic solution. They turned visibly blue in 20 seconds, started to cramp up but then suddenly I couldn't even feel them; ah.
I was the second-to-last dunkee to go, I figured the picnic would've broken up by then, but there were a few folks still hanging around. Lotsa faces. Lotsa familiar faces! Like, every person that worked with me, and my boss, and my coworkers, and my coworkers at Tooele, dammit where'd all these people come from?!? :bat: Dora was up first. Bless her heart, she couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a ball. Or a second ball. Or a third ball. Or even the last ba
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
I finally managed to get in some oxygen, re-latch the sitting platform, and crawl onto it. I looked up and
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
Then a real cute brunette in a red top :naughty:, whom I'd been looking at the whole afternoon, stepped up with four balls and started throwing. She hadn't thrown at anyone else yet, and I started daydreaming that she just wanted to see me in a wet t-shirt, muscles rippling thru the gossamer cotton fabri
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
I crawled back onto the platform, wet t-shirt clinging, and she dropped the remaining balls and ran off screaming into the night. And it wasn't even night.
This went on for, I'd guess, twenty minutes. My boss, way back at the end of the park, yelled, "Hey Botch, do I get a Freebie if I throw the ball from here?" Well, ain't no way that old man can hit the target from there, so I yell "SURE!" He misses the target, the tank itself, possibly even the Zip code. I yell, "Have another Freebie!" He looks at me, grins (uh oh) winds up like Sandy Koufax, and
PHUCK SPLA_A_A_A_SH!!! Blub gaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspphuckthiswateriscoldgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaspgaaahhhgaspgaspgaspgasp.
Finally, I receive the signal that my time's up. I had trouble climbing down the ladder as I couldn't feel my feet, the rungs, my hands, or my breath. My coworker Jeff approaches (he's the next guy in the booth) and he asked if it was cold. I gave him a full bear hug and screamed "It's so cold, Jeff, HOLD ME!" (It's rare on an Air Force Base that you can get away with that)
The day was hot enough that once I was out of the tank I wasn't shivering, but in a brilliant choice demonstrating superior intelligence and Leadership, I had worn denim cutoffs which never did really dry. I did remember to bring a towel to throw over my seat when I drove home.
Sitting in a dunk tank was not on my bucket list, but I've never done it before, I have now, and I'll never do it again. I just wish I could get the feeling back in my feet again...
