You know, just the fact that I know this exists, is going to cause me nightmares.
This is a pool in the 57th floor of the Marina Bay Sands Casino in Singapore. Yes. It hangs out from the side of the hotel, 57 floors above the city.
Why would anyone build this? But, more than that — why would anyone go swimming in this?
I imagine it sitting there getting weaker by the day, hairline fractures in the superstructure caused from the weight of the water, slowing spreading, stressing the steel support beams, day by day, until that day that I find myself somehow in Singapore and somebody says, “Hey, why don’t we go get in the pool at the Marina Bay Sands Casino?” and I foolishly and stupidly and unthinkingly say, “Ok” and so we go to the hotel and go up to the 57th floor and walk out to the pool and then when I step in, the whole thing begins to creak and groan and crack and start tilting downward toward the street and I slide down to the edge and can’t get back to the main structure because the water is rushing over the edge and as it swings slowly down, I end up trying to hang on the railing of this stupid pool, dangling 57 floors above the streets of Singapore, saying “I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!”
It’s so real to me, just thinking about it makes me want to scream like a little girl.
And you will NEVER convince me that it’s all in my mind.
So. No. I’m not going in. I’m not going to go look at the pool. I’m not going to the hotel. I’m not even going to Singapore.
Never.
Ever.
Steve,
This is the best example of Paul’s doctrine of “being anxious for everything” that I have ever read!
In the Lamb,
Joihn
Joel and I have been there. It’s really not so bad.
And on the opposite side of the pool there are private hot tubs that have the exact same view.
It really is impressive what we can build.
Dale, glad to hear it. I’ll take y’all’s word for it!
I’m afraid of heights. I used to work on the 17th floor of an all-glass building in Studio City with my back to the window. I could look straight down to the street and always had a recurring thought about the floors collapsing down like louvers and me clawing at the carpet as I slip down and out into the air and to the street below. Well guess what? The floors did exactly that when the Northridge earthquake hit in ’94!