The Great Bubbler Mystery

I’m not sure if this is an example of how my brain works or how it malfunctions. I’ll let you be the judge.

“What’s your problem, buddy?” I thought as he walked away in a huff.

I mean, the two bubblers (where I come from, that’s what we call them; you might know them as “water fountains”) sat side by side along one wall of the gym. He was getting a drink at one when I sidled up next to him to fill my water bottle at the other.

No problem, right? I’ll admit, having two bubblers next to one another may create social uncomfortability for some. But it’s not like we were both sitting on toilets with no divider between us, or that I sat down right next to him in an otherwise empty bus. I mean, I even stood off to one the side to give him more room as “my” bubbler did its thing.

Yet, almost immediately after my arrival, he stood up, glared at me like I’d committed some major bubbler crime (or at least a faux pas), and walked away briskly, as if to make a statement. (I may have been reading more into his behavior than necessary, but he was, let’s say, irked.)

After he left, I stood quietly until my water bottle was full, snatched it out from under the receptacle, and went on with my gym experience, wondering what I’d done.

The other gentleman also went on with his gym experience, and our paths did not cross again that day. In other words, whatever “that” was … was over … an isolated incident.

For him maybe … but it didn’t end for me.

As the day went on, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I might have done to piss this guy off; something so egregious that it made him stop drinking from the bubbler. I mean, it’s not like I shoved him out of the way or even attempted to make unwanted small talk.

After poring over the scene again and again (and I did pore, make no mistake), I could not for the life of me identify any unwritten “gym code” I’d broken. I found no social ethics I’d violated, nor could I put my finger on any inappropriate behavior whatsoever. I even smelled my gym clothes as the scene unfolded to make sure I wasn’t “foul.” (I wasn’t.)

But it continued to plague me. Why? I know, it’s stupid, but things like this bother me long after they’re over and everyone has moved on. I mean, he never said anything. He didn’t grunt. He didn’t snort. He just looked at me with dead eyes, like I had done something wrong and I should know better.

A week went by. Once again, found myself at the gym, this time without my water bottle. On this day, I was the drinker, not the filler. I bent down, pushed the button and started drinking. A second or two later, a woman arrived at the adjacent bubbler and started to fill her bottle.

As soon she started, the flow in my bubbler was reduced to a trickle, making it almost impossible to get a drink. “Aha!” I thought, “now it all makes sense.”

It was then I realized what it happened the week prior; why my bubbler counterpart was irked. My bubbler, and the pressure required to operate its bottle-filling attachment, was overpowering his bubbler. Now, I could still argue that that’s not an “irkable” offense; rather, simply a matter of circumstance. But at least it cleared things up for me. It wasn’t me; it was the bubbler.

Not wanting to make my new bubbler counterpart feel bad, I stayed bent over my bubbler for a few more seconds, pretending to drink water that wasn’t coming out. Then, I stood up, nodded and smiled and went on with my workout, only to return a few minutes later (after she’d cleared the area) to get the drink I wanted the first time. And I’m sure (and I hope) she went on with her day none the wiser. Because she, like me a week earlier, had no idea the second bubbler was sabotaging the one next to it.

It’s now more than a week after the second incident (when I cracked the case), but I still can’t get the first incident out of my head. I’m still thinking about that guy that I pissed off, or more to the point, that my bubbler pissed off. I don’t think I’ve seen him since, but when I do, I want to apologize, not for my behavior, but because now I realize that two bubblers cannot coexist if they’re both trying to do their job at the same time, from the same pipe or tube or whatever is behind the wall that’s feeding them.

Not in that gym, anyway.

I want to let him know that it was not my intention to interrupt his water drinking. I want to let him know that I know, but frankly, I can’t remember what the guy looked like. And that’s probably a good thing because if I seek him out, find him and tell him all this, he’ll likely think (and maybe rightfully so) I’m one strange dude because I’m sure he forgot about the whole incident within seconds after it happened.

And that would likely irk him.

Anyway, all’s well that ends well. But now I’m wondering if I should talk to the owners of the gym and let them know about this whole bubbler/water pressure issue. Maybe I’ll save that for another day.

Stay hydrated everybody!

© 2026 David R. Haznaw