One of my biggest fears I ever had to face is a weird one that you probably have faced too. I have faced losing my father to cancer, the military, demons and ghosts, insanity, praise music from a Stepford Community (it truly is surreal to see the most evil people I know praise God), CPS showing up with my house a mess, and cockroaches in Puerto Rico, but nothing scared me my entire life like this.
In high school, my BFF dated a guy in Caldwell, Ohio, so we drove the half hour out there, lying to my parents about where we were, and we couldn’t find her boyfriend. No idea where he was. We drove everywhere Caldwell had to offer, which was like 3 places, to find him. We checked the high school football field, the McDonalds, and the gas station… plus his house and several of his friends’ houses. We just figured he was cruising and boozing without us somewhere (where you grab a couple cases of beer and drive 5 mph on country roads, which is like blasphemy now a days), so we just decided to hang around for a few hours in hopes to find this guy.
Night approached, and so did my bladder. Everything in town closed by 9PM, so I was without actual plumbing and facilities. I’m kind of a pampered bitch, so this was like the end of the world to me. I was ready to go home, but my friend was too horny to go home without tapping her man’s meat because nymphomania, so I had to find some way to relieve myself.
I knew it was that time in my life, you know that thing every woman goes through at some point… It was time for me to nature pee. This was worse than starting my period. Way worse.
So we were in the country. Right? There has to be a million places to piss in the country. Right? So I drove out a one-lane country road to the middle of no where. I pulled over. The moment I started to pull down my pants, a car turned the bend. Headlights glared right at me, and I was caught red-handed, leaning forward with my knees bent, butt sticking out in the hair, with my hands on the lip of my pants ready to do something unholy, eyes wide open, staring at the headlights like deer, frozen. My face expression was probably more stupidly priceless than when I’m squeezing on the toilet.
He passed. I stood up. Did the pee pee dance for a second. Regained my composure. I hunched down for another go, and would you believe another fucking car turned the bend?
I knew I wasn’t far enough out in the country to pee at this point. I had to go deeper.
I drove another 10 minutes out windy roads. This is a place where NOBODY existed. Right? I mean it was complete black darkness of wooded lands and grassy nulls. It was the type of place to be feared because of the nothingness. I was totally safe to pee here in the privacy of serene darkness.
I turned off my headlights. I got out of the car. Leaned over as I grabbed my pants, and the moment my butt crack made an appearance, a light turned on out yonder and some guy started screaming. In West Virginia, that is usually followed with the sound of a shot gun; I can only imagine Ohio to be worse like their drivers.
I quickly pulled my pants back up like I sat on a wet toilet seat, squealing like a bug flew down my shirt, and I got back in my car.
At this point, I was crying like the pee had filled my entire body and was coming out of my eyeballs. I wiggled my butt bargaining with God the entire drive back into town. I was in a state of panic. I needed to go SO BAD. My friend laughed maniacally because she’ll pee in front of a priest. She don’t care. She’ll change her tampon right there too. Here I am, the skiddish type, afraid to pee outdoors. I would have never made it as a man in redneck land because redneck men will walk pass 3 bathrooms to go outside to pee.
Once in town, we stopped by a mutual friend’s house hoping he at least was finally home, and he let me use his bathroom. I didn’t care his bathroom was a hot mess of a bachelor. Whoever invented walls deserves eternal blow jobs. Privacy is not an entitlement. Not at all. It’s a luxury.
I still to this day have a recurring nightmare where I’m trying to find a usable bathroom.
But I have eventually, successfully, nature peed. Several times. I found the trick. First time nature peeing, I was as high as Snoop Dogg agreeing to “bake” with Martha Stewart. Get it? Baked? Anyway, I found a log, and I sat on it like a toilet with my bum hanging out the back edge. Second time, I was drinking vodka, and again I made a homemade toilet out of nature like my Pinterest Survival Instinct kicked in.
What I did this week
I made this product on my store
I uploaded a bunch of pics to my Flickr Account placing in CC0 Public Domain. I don’t have time for this, but I’m strangely obsessed with doing this. These are either my photos or cleaned up Vintage art. I do take requests. Feel free to use them…
Now PNG’s with transparent backgrounds, I have to put on one of my sites to keep the transparency, so there are things like this:
I also have been slowly working on my Healing Journal I hope to publish before I die. I only have like 10 book ideas I want to do, so yeah. Here I am. One procrastination at a time.
Share this on Pinterest:
This is part of Finish the Sentence Friday