And now for something completely different...
I took the kids to Robinson Pond yesterday. Being that I had sucked down a Red Bull (sugar-free, of course) and a bunch of water, I had to pee. I�ve pretty much given up on peeing in the water for the most part, so I had to use the port-a-potty. And as I sat (okay, �hovered�) there, all I could think of was how much I hate the damn things and all the awful experiences I�ve had with them in my life.
Ugh. Port-a-potties. I don�t think it�s just me. I hate sitting there, with all my goodies out in the open over a hole containing other people�s pee and poo and that blue super chemical stuff. (Also, I wear a one piece bathing suit so that means I�m sitting there bare ass naked as well). I�m always afraid there�s some kind of monster or ginormous bug in there just waiting to attack my, uh, �situation�.
And I�ll be honest for a second here. If the condition of the potty was in such a state that I found it unacceptable for use, I would have resorted to peeing in the water. I�ll admit it. Either that, or make a trip into the woods. Like, when I took the kids the other day, there was only one potty (as opposed to yesterday�s two) and it was on full. As in, sit on that seat (or hover, take your pick) and your cash and prizes are going to be a little *too close* to the pile of TP and crap and that radioactive blue shit.
I went to see the Grateful Dead in Foxboro MA in July of 1990. Fucking awesome show. But Dead Shows were Dead shows, and people camped out in the parking lot for days and basically lived there. Thousands of people. And when it came time to take care of business, they had a line of about ten port-a-potties in a row in the parking lot we were in.
You�d think that was enough. Think again.
Never in my life had I ever seen anything as disgusting as those potties. The pile of shit and TP came out of the seats! It was like a mountain of shit emerging from the depths of the potty. In every fucking potty I looked in. Every. Fucking. One.
It didn�t help, either, that I was tripping my fucking face off.
I gave up on those and resorted to Plan B. Pee in the woods under the water tower. It worked, but I wasn�t the only one with that plan. Others did, and they didn�t just pee. Bad Deadheads pooping in the woods and not burying it. Watch your step!
Another thing I often think of in the port-a-potty: the bit from JackAss when they put Johnny Knoxville in one and turned it upside down, with all that shit going all over him.
Ick. Super ick. Mega ultra super ick. *gag*
When I was 12, we camped out at Allegheny State Park in Western NY (me & Jamestown go way back). We rented a little cabin in the woods. No running water in the cabin. No toilet. Just an outhouse.
An outhouse. Even worse than a damn port-a-potty. The hole down there is bigger and the lack of the super blue chemicals makes for nightmares. Nightmares.
This outhouse, oh my God. First off, the obvious stench of old pee and poo in the hot weather. Also, there were dead flies all around the �seat�. What killed the flies? How could flies die in such a bastion of fly bliss?
Then there�s that hole. I couldn�t even tell you how far down it went. At least it was far enough down that you wouldn�t get a splash on your taa-taa after pinching off a loaf. But it was also deep enough to successfully house a poo inhabiting coochie biting monster. Not that I saw one there, but I was aware of the possibility.
However, I encountered the nastiest outhouse in the world in 1997. We went for a canoe/camping trip on the Saco River in Maine. Best camping trip of my life, even though it involved Dick (it was when we were first together so we were still having fun). The Saco is a fucking blast.
Anyway, we were canoeing our way back to the cars at the end of the trip, and we stopped at this one place where you can drop off your trash. It had a sign saying there was a potty. I had to go, as I hadn�t pooped for three days (I can pee outside all day long, but my ass needs to be sitting (or hovering) on a seat to shit), and headed up there.
The outhouse was up a hill. It could be smelled upon sight. A stench worse than the one in Allegheny. And I�d never thought that possible, but there it was.
I should have taken that as a warning, but I didn�t. The idea of relief from the turtlehead I had blinded me.
When I got in there, I sat, trying not to breathe. It was oppressive. But, I eventually had to breathe and once I did, it was over. I sat there on the seat (at that point, I�d been swimming in a river that people had been peeing in for three days. I fucking sat. Fuck hovering at that point) and puked right on the floor between my legs. That�s how bad it was. It made me puke.
I quit at that point and got the fuck out of there. I was in such a hurry that I left my sunglasses in there and wouldn�t return to get them for the life of me. And one thing about me, I go nowhere without my sunglasses. The idea of being in the sun without them is horrifying to me. Horrifying. Yet I chose to leave them there and suffer rather than go back into that outhouse. Nor send anyone else in there for them.
I don�t know how people did it before the invention of the flushing toilet, I really don�t.
Anyway, that�s all for me today.
Ciao!