Friday, December 29, 2006

The Deuce

Last night, bad back and all, I went to the Holiday Bowl to watch CAL kill Texas A&M 45 to 10.

Before I left, I told myself I wouldn't drink, fearful that something bad might happen while I walked around. Oddly, I did drink (shocker)...and I started walking MUCH better. But we all know what happens when you drink a lot of beer...you gotta pee, and pee mightily.

I, like you, hate port-o-potties even if they are a necessary evil. Luckily, after tailgating for a few hours, I walked over to one and there was no line...just one guy inside. And man, I had to go.

As I waited, this fairly attractive blonde walked up to me, and asked if I was waiting in line to use the restroom. As a personal rule, I'm not one to make small talk in two places (1) the gym and (2) when waiting to use the restroom. Just a personal life rule.

So, I turned, told her I was waiting in line, and went back to staring at the port-o-pottie door. Hopeful, my turn would come soon.

She tried making small talk again...and I gave her more one-word answers...never removing my gaze from my door. God, I needed to pee.

Now, I don't know if it was because I wasn't paying attention to her or if she was actually curious, but she then asked:

You're not going to drop a deuce in there, are you?

Shocked that I was being asked this question by not only a complete stranger...but a young, attractive blonde complete stranger...I removed my pleading stares from the bathroom door and turned back to answer her.

No. I am not going to "drop a deuce." And I turned back to look at the door. My finger air quotes hanging in the air. Damn. Still occupied.

That's good. I hate using one of those things after someone takes a dump.

Again, now chuckling, I remove my wanting gaze from the door, tighten my thighs a little more as we are getting into emergency phase, and just look at this person who is having this conversation with me. I am about to retort, when I hear Click...Boom.

The port-o-pottie is free.

I walk in, do my business...and as I leave, there are now three girls standing in line. The one I was talking to lets out a gasp of joy, and YELLS Wow, that was fast. I guess you really didn't drop a deuce. This of course makes everyone in earshot look at her, then me, then the port-o-pottie, then me again.

Nope. Sure didn't, I suavely replied....as I walked back to drink more stupid beer.

6 comments:

Kristen said...

Is this the TRUE story on how you met your girlfriend? Very romantic, Mark... :)

McNastabator said...

No. My girlfriend is the port-o-pottie.

Middento said...

It sounds like you should have puked on her. I mean, really.

prez said...

In terms of probability, she was correct in asking.

Lali said...

I'm sure you pee'd on the seat, though. I know your type.

Chris said...

God help her if you had dropped a deuce.