Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Tales of bathroom horror: Does a Josh shit in the woods?

With the fall here, I find myself rushing to do some things that I forgot to do during the summer. It happens. With my crazy, fastlane lifestyle, things fall through the cracks from time to time. So, when I get a free minute (in between performing life-saving heart surgery and feeding the hungry in Mongolia*) I like to spend my time relaxing in a proactive way.
To that end, last Saturday, I gathered the troops, some beer, a grill and plenty of food and headed up to a nearby lake for some quality fishing. And by fishing I of course mean “attempting to throw a dangerous hook attached to a line into the water without it first going through three layers of clothes and two layers of skin,” which is harder than it sounds.
Fishing. What a weird activity. By the way, who figured out using worms as bait? If I’m not mistaken, worms don’t tend to do much swimming or jet skiing. So why would somebody think to use them to entice and trap fish? And to be honest, I don’t think fish like worms anyway. My theory is that they just pretend to like worms to screw with people who go fishing. The fish swim up to the dangling worm, impaled on the barbed hook, and they laugh. Then they take little nibbles of the worm without getting anywhere near the hook, and when they’re done, they gently tug on the string to let you know that they’re ready for the next course.
I’ve never been a bass master or anything, (or even a master baiter!) when it comes to fishing, but I do enjoy the serene vistas and calm moods that fishing brings out. Unless you manage to keep losing worms to those blasted cunning fish and can’t get a decent bite even after four hours of trying! Then things can get a little heated. That’s why it’s always important to bring some potent potables to mellow you out. Sitting in a chair looking out over a lake for seven hours can also be kinda boring, which is another good reason to drink if I’ve ever heard one.
We were there all day, laughing, fishing, cavorting, frolicking and generally having a decent time of it. When we got bored with fishing we’d grill some food or take a nap. It was a good time. There was just one bad part…
…See, the previous night I had ordered some hot wings from Cluck U. And, well, I often forget that when they’re hot going in, they’re also hot coming out, and they like to be messy (ewwww.) That morning my stomach was talking to me and my anus was starting to join the conversation. My first thought was to run to a port-a-potty. But, sadly, we were at least a half-mile trek from where the cars were parked (and where I mistakenly thought there’d be some kind of bathroom facility. Silly me.) So, there was only one other option. I grabbed a roll of paper towels (which aren’t made to be soft or comfortable on ones bum, by the way) and headed off into the woods, out of sight of my friends.
I walked for a minute or two, until I was out of earshot (sometimes, in the heat of the moment I sound like a water buffalo trying to give birth) dropped trou and had a seat, (no, not in poison ivy, I’m not that dumb!) I figured that even though it was a lovely Saturday morning, it was too cold for people to be out and about enjoying nature. That’s why I didn’t realize that the spot I thought I was completely hidden in was actually 20 yards from a path. I didn’t realize that until a lovely old couple walked by.
Now imagine, you’re 70 years old or whatever. Your bones or old and brittle. You and your hubby don’t get out much. The one bright spot in your week is your habitual walk on the path of a nearby lake, where you get to enjoy the crisp autumn air, the company of your beloved life partner and the glorious feeling of being alive. Then, the next thing you know, there’s some weirdly dressed black man not 50 feet away from you, taking a dump in the woods and waving at you like you’re a long-lost friend. Crazy!
Honestly, what can you do when you’re caught out there going number two in a place that was a bit more public than you realized? I don’t know who was more embarrassed, me, or the old couple that kept sneaking glances at me because they weren’t sure if I was doing what it obviously looked like I was doing. All I could do was smile and wave with my pants around my ankles and my butt exposed to the wind.
We didn’t catch any damn fish either.

*Why not?

No comments: