Well... you read the title so I guess I'll tell you.

I sort of... "attacked" a patron today... while on duty. I know, I know, you guys are all, "Christie, why would you even think of doing that?! YA RETARD."
Truth is, I wasn't thinking. The only thing that was going through my mind was how I wanted to send his soul to the deepest depths of hell.

So you're asking, "What the gel happened?" Well, y'see, I dunno if I ever told you this (or if you haven't caught on by now) I have 'anger issues', and I never really learned to control it.

So, Austin (lastname) Mr. Fuggin King of the Assholes and Retards is pushing people into the pool, and every single time I'm blowing my whistle at him. I tell him to stop and he doesn't. So around the fourth time he pushed someone (I should have benched him around the second time) I benched him and he was all, "Waaaah? wait hold on!" he gets his phone, and I'm like, "NO, PUT IT AWAY." And he's all, "It's just my phone!"

So I told him I'd let him go if he stopped pushing people in.
Now, get this. THE MUTHER FUCKER DID NOT LISTEN, AND HE CROSSED THE LINE... BIG TIME.
I got down from the chair so that Lincoln could take my place, and as I was waiting, the mother fucker fucking PUSHED. ME. IN.
He got my towel wet, and it was my intention to keep my hair chlorine-free that night.
Not anymore.
I got out, and believe me, that shit DID NOT FLY. Letting my anger run loose, I whacked him with my wet towel multiple times, then started whacking him with my booey. THEN, he jumped in the water. And thinking he was safe, I threw off my gear and then jumped in after him and fucking beat on him as hard as I could (which wasn't very hard since I was trying to keep myself afloat).




*looooonggg streessful sigh*

mother fucker.

he will die by my hand some day.