It’s a Work Party… Or is it.

We have a work party each summer. I inquired last night what they were thinking of doing this year. The first option they mentioned was Splash Summit. I thought, what is that? Turns out it is the old Seven Peaks Waterpark in Provo.

As soon as I saw it, I had two thoughts.

  1. I’m fat and I don’t want to get wet.
  2. A memory of the last time I was there.

I have not been there since my kids were in swim diapers. That is pushing 10 to 15 years. I can’t remember the exact circumstances in which we went, just that it was a long time ago.

I remember that we arrived at the park. There were so many people that there was hardly a place to lay out a blanket or towel. We ended up finding a patch of grass on a crowded lawn big enough for our family. There must have been hundreds of people all around us relaxing on their towels. We started to relax and enjoy our time.

Off in the distance, I saw what looked to be the rowdiest people approaching the same lawn where we were sitting. They looked very rough around the edges. They were acting rowdy; loud, obnoxious, tattoos, swearing, clearly not matching the crowd or the vibe at the park that day. My first thought was oh please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t sit by us.

Unfortunately, the only patch of grass remaining was right behind where I was sitting. We did our best to ignore them. Honestly, they must have been high or drunk, one or the other. We were trying to make the best of it.

The next thing I know, I hear someone yell my last name; “Priddis.” I didn’t catch it at first. Then I heard it again; “Priddis.” My wife looks at me and says, “They are talking to you.” I thought, oh know. Of all the people they could know, hundreds of people sitting around us, they know me.

I turned around and to my surprise, I knew two people in their group. The first was a girl I went to High School with. (I will omit her name) The second was a missionary I was on my mission with. (I will omit his name also)

I knew she was wild and partied a lot back in High School. Him, he fell away after his mission and became a drug addict. I was shocked. I was in the MTC with this kid. He was as clean and straight as they come. Now I’m looking at him face to face and he is a drug addict. This talented, handsome, faithful return missionary had crashed and burned hard. They both look messed up and burnt out. He had tattoos all over. I was honestly a bit surprised.

I guess that is the end of the story. I don’t really have a moral of the story to tie into it. My company is considering going there for a summer party. I more than likely am not interested in going if they go there. The last time I was there I had a strange experience. Not bad, just strange.

I get it, life is hard. There was a time in my life when I was that kid parents were hoping would not sit down by their family. Having been there and having been here, I see both sides. Where would I rather be? I would rather be on the straight and narrow. I know that the other path doesn’t go anywhere. You lose more than you ever gain.

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