I want to swim in Silverlake Reservoir. The plan is to wait for a warm summer night, hop the fence with a long rope, tie the rope to a tree, and shimmy down the concrete embankment to the water. I'll swim until I'm satisfied, which more than likely, wouldn't take very long. My paranoia will kick in at some point.
I have a similar plan for the Griffith Park plunge. That's an easier job. One fence, no need for a rope, easy pickings. I'm looking for a accomplices. But when I bring it up to people they look at me strange, as if I'm saying something peculiar.
I tell them, "Imagine having the whole plunge to yourself after midnight, swimming in the deep end with the night sky hovering above, it sounds nice, right?"
No takers yet. I think it has something to do with breaking the law. But it's more than that. It's breaking the law to swim in a gigantic public pool at night with nobody around. Someday, someone will see the beauty in my vision.
I have a similar plan for the Griffith Park plunge. That's an easier job. One fence, no need for a rope, easy pickings. I'm looking for a accomplices. But when I bring it up to people they look at me strange, as if I'm saying something peculiar.
I tell them, "Imagine having the whole plunge to yourself after midnight, swimming in the deep end with the night sky hovering above, it sounds nice, right?"
No takers yet. I think it has something to do with breaking the law. But it's more than that. It's breaking the law to swim in a gigantic public pool at night with nobody around. Someday, someone will see the beauty in my vision.