Indoor Wall Fountains
Are The Bomb
Indoor fountains saved my life once. It all started long long ago, in 1998, when I was hired by his excellency Cap'n John, of Capn John's Clam Bakes in California. Cap'n John loved indoor fountains. He loved indoor fountains like no one has since, or will. The soothing flow of water through an indoor wall fountain would lull Cap'n John to sleep at his desk, especially around lunch time, when the California sun was at its peak. The indoor water fountains in his office were his very life blood.
The indoor wall waterfalls in Cap'n John's office was my least favorite feature of the place. That ranks it somewhere behind the clam bins that were never cleaned, and the deep fryer grease catcher. Why did I hate the fountains so? It was my task to fill the reservoir on each indoor wall fountain once a week. This usually meant an awkward conversation with the Cap'n, and almost always featured some kind of very pungent odor. Of course, the odor was all Cap'n John. The indoor wall fountain was from Wall2WallFountains.com, so of course, it always smelled fresh and clean. So fresh and so clean, clean. Besides, the impeccable quality of goods from that fine establishment, (with which I am not affiliated, I swear) would preclude any unnatural odors. Yes, our indoor fountain was always fresh smelling, not to mention an integral and attractive element of the clam shack's feng shui. The smell that so effected me was pure Cap'n John. Some blend of decaying shellfish and sweat. Absolutely no blame lies with the indoor wall fountain.
Indoor wall fountain, right. Sorry, I digress, I was just about to explain how it saved my life. It was a late August California evening. We had just returned from a private party on the beach in Newport California, with many exceptionally hot chicks, none of whom wanted anything to do with me. The indoor wall fountains had been running overtime all week, trying to clean the air around our fearless Cap'n. There were five of the indoor fountains in his office, two on the desk and three more wall fountains on a wall by the door. Like all indoor fountains, each one produced things called negative ions. These negative ions are produced by turbulence in an indoor fountain, and they help to clean the air, removing the southern California dust and other stuff. Unfortunately, the indoor fountains in the Cap'n's lair were fighting a steep uphill battle. The poor things just couldn't keep up, so I decided that before I went home, I'd put a little bit of extra water in each of his indoor fountains.
As I was filling the last indoor wall fountain, Cap'n John walked out to his car, locking the garage door that served as the entry to our workshop. I heard the padlock click. Soon, the soft sound of the water feature began to seep in around the edges of my panic, whispering with their silvery tongues, as if to say "oh crap". They were right, I was in trouble. I left the indoor waterfalls and started banging on the walls of the garage with my fist, but I could already hear the Captain's truck pulling out of the driveway. It was a long shot anyway, he doesn't hear very good. Besides, he was concentrating on the road. He's your typical responsible California driver.
Indoor fountains splashed and gurgled, and I realized that I was really stuck in the garage. With nothing but some lobsters and various native California mollusks to keep me company, I started thinking about my escape. All of the walls were sealed, and even though the indoor wall fountains were soothing, I was not eager to spend the night smelling clam juice and rancid barbeque sauce. Finally, I gave up. there was no hope. I put on the only CD in the place, dark Side of The Moon, brought by one of my smelly hippy co-workers. It provided a nice compliment to the sound of trickling water from the indoor wall fountains.
As the night wore on, I began to feel increasingly hungry. And thirsty. I've never been into raw shellfish, so I couldn't do anything about the hunger, but the thirst was another matter. My mouth was dry, and I had been in the California sun all day. I had two choices. It was either a tall glass of clam juice from the Cap'n's office, or the reservoir from the indoor wall fountains. Since I'm not a creepy old man like the Cap'n, the clam juice was out. The indoor wall fountains were taunting me with the sound of fresh running water. In the end, I decided that drinking the indoor fountain water was my best bet. I stuck my face right into the reservoir at the base, and drank till I slaked my thirst. Slaked, what a good word. I like that word. Anyway, that's how my life was saved by a wonderful indoor wall fountain.