By day, the clubhouse was a full service restaurant serving breakfast through dinner seven days a week and at night,it was transformed into a full blown nightclub with a DJ and disco lighted dance floor. The three bars were the main clubhouse bar, the patio bar and the infamous tiki bar that was ruled with an iron fist by bartenders Dee and Kathy. They always poured a mean drink, but were quick to cut you off if you started to act the fool.
One of the most popular activities at the old club was the Sunday night hot tub bubble bath party. Legend has it that this strange bubble phenomenon was discovered completely by accident. The story goes that after a long night of partying, an adventurous couple snuck back into the club area long after the nightclub had closed with the intent of taking a king sized bubble bath. After dumping a box of Mister Bubble into the hot tub, they quickly realized that this was no ordinary bubble bath.
What made the old hot tub special was that it was surrounded by a wooden bench and topped off by a twenty-foot high gazebo. That design created an interesting effect and the bubbles formed in a cylindrical shape and rose all the way to the top of the gazebo. The next morning, the breakfast crew arrived to find the entire pool area inundated with bubbles. As for the couple, they were nowhere to be found and rumor has it they were never heard from again.
Through meticulous experimentation, we eventually discovered the perfect Mister Bubble to hot water recipe and the Sunday night hot tub bubble bath party was born. The bubbles would perfectly fill the gazebo all the way to its pointed peak and remain like that all night long. From the outside, all you could see in the wooden gazebo were bubbles. Guests would have to dig their way into the hot tub and then they would disappear. In fact, once you were in, you couldn’t even see the person seated next to you. I’ll never forget the time I heard a man’s voice call out, “Honey? Is that you?”, followed by another male voice emphatically answering, “No”. Every Sunday night I would hear all kinds of crazy sounds coming from that hot tub and I’m sure plenty of folks have their own stories of what actually went on inside there, but I never heard anyone complain that it was anything but good clean fun.
It’s like I always say: If you find yourself in a hot tub, covered in bubbles and you don’t know exactly where your girlfriend is,
“Keep Your Hands to Yourself Dude”