dropping deuces and helping the homeless

I have recently been planning a trip to Europe this summer where I hope to be able to go on a cycling trek with my friend Kim, who works for Adidas. We will be cycling from Germany to Austria during the Eurocup 2008 and arrive in Austria in time for the quarter finals. So, I have thinking a lot as of late about purchasing a bike and finally did! I was going for a bike ride down PCH and was cruising along Mariner’s Mile when it hit. I had serious need of a restroom and I mean, soon! I had turtle heads poking and could not for the life of me hold it in. So what did I do? I dropped my sexy biking shorts, rotated backward on my seat like an awkward turtle, and dropped the kids off coating my bike seat all while maintaining my 26 mph pace. Luckily it was a flawless victory and once I sat back up discovered that I was as clean as a whistle.

I began peddling again, but was a little weary from the extra energy exerted in the previous three minutes. Dismounting my bike in front of one of the yacht lots, I decided that I was too far from home to return that day and began looking for a place to camp. Yes, I realize that my house is only three miles from there, but just could not find it in me to ride home, especially after the ordeal that I had just experience. I walked my bike past a few tents set up on the side walk and found an empty site right next to a homeless lady, who was lying in her own vomit. She looked quite sick and I was relieved when a female cop backed her squad car up to her and began to help get her out of there and take her to a hospital. However, the cop popped her back trunk, yanked this poor homeless women up, and was trying to shove her into the back trunk. I thought this was terribly inhumane, but then noticed that this trunk was at least three times deeper and longer than a typical car’s, so what did I do but help the nice lady cop to get the homeless person in there.

Feeling pretty good about myself and having done my good turn for the day, I began setting up my site. Now, even though I had just relieved myself a few minutes earlier, all of a sudden I felt like I was going to explode again. So, I sprinted up the hill to Newport Harbor High School’s stadium and ran into the locker room. This locker room was huge and it wrapped halfway around the stadium, underground. There was a set of thirty stalls at the south end and another set of thirty at the north. Having entered from the north, I ran past the close stalls to the south just because it seemed like a good idea. You see, I have been there before and it seems that all the stalls in the north wing are usually clogged and overflowing. As I open the first stall door in the south wing, I am hit with an unbearable stench and just as I feared, this stall was clogged and overflowing, even though it was at the south end! Not being daunted, I pressed on opening door after door after door, finding the same result in each pot. The walls around each stall were only half height, so I started peering over the wall to look. This way I didn’t have to endure the rank smell and I could still see if I could use that particular stall. After running through twenty-nine backed up stalls and a single occupied stall, I felt like I was busting at the seams and ready to pop.

I hustled back to the north end not knowing if I would make it, cursing those stupid, dirty sailors the entire way; and guess what I found? You would be correct that those stalls were just as dirty, rank, and disgusting as the others. As peered over wall after wall, I saw every color of chunky, greasy, runny, slimy brown that you could imagine. I even saw some very interesting greens, oranges, and reds with bits of corn and little green leaves stuck in there. I have no idea what the unicorn reading the paper was doing in one of the stalls, but I can only assume that it was dropping little Skittle flavored poops in the toilet, because that is what unicorns poop (kind of like the theory that dragon tears turn into jelly beans.) Either way, I darted between stalls through this maze of sewage and held my breath as I slowly opened the door to the last stall. As I inched this door ajar, what lay before me, but a golden throne, spotless and beautiful. I nestled in ever so gently with the biggest grin ever on my face, let out a huge sigh of relief from both ends and absolutely destroyed that stall. Apparently, I was number sixty to use that restroom that day. I feel sorry for whomever was to be number sixty-one.