Is Cold Water at Green Hope a Social Construct?
Cold H20 or H2 NO: A quest to find a cold water fountain at Green Hope.
It’s 8:32 a.m. You’re in class. It’s boring. The temperature of the room increases by a few degrees. You realize global warming is not a conspiracy. Dehydration begins to set in. The thirst is real.
You raise your hand and ask to leave the classroom for a sip of water from the famed Green Hope water fountains.
Feeling parched, you decide to investigate the urban legend that the athletic hallway contains the most-prized water fountains with the coldest, iciest water, and the most intricate silver designs. You venture to check them out. You walk down the hallway and find five water fountains all in a row. It is hard to tell which one will taste like the Blue Lake in New Zealand and which one will taste like a three-week-old Dasani water bottle you left in your car in the blazing summer heat.
I too have ventured to the athletic hallway seeking to quench my thirst. I tried really hard to like the water. I wanted to believe the urban legend, but the water was lukewarm, the spout spewed rust-tinged water. I can still taste the tinny metallics. This was not water. This was torture. The ferrous water coupled with the sweat-soaked smell of feet floating through the atmosphere only made it worse.
After such disappointment, I took my sadness and brooded away, consumed with thirst, disgust, and dismay.
Was I ever going to find the perfect water fountain? Does it even exist? Is cold water at Green Hope a social construct?
I sulked around the school. Every single water fountain I tasted could not meet my coldness expectations. Maybe the third floor had what I was needed. I had tried every single water fountain in the school, but for some reason missed out on the 3200 hallway.
I was about to turn away thinking it wasn’t even worth it, but thirst and the quest to find the Holy Grail of Good Water compelled me to continue. That’s when I saw it- a beacon between the hallways. A space-saving, floor-mounted, single-station drinking fountain with a light gray granite finish. An antique beauty.
It looked like childhood. It smelled like fresh paper, a spring day, fruit, roses, eternity. The sweet smell had not been tainted with footsweat from two floors below.
I brought myself closer, slowing pressing the old-fashioned button, not knowing what to expect.
Then I tasted it.
Water had never been such a delicacy. The coldness of Arctic waters rushed down my throat, A feeling of fulfillment flowed through my veins.
I had found it. My quest was complete.