It was hard to bear. I shit you not.
I did my normal Sunday walk this morning. What made it unusual was about 1K in, I felt the urge to poop. Now, I’m a regular guy and I normally take care of business before I even finish my morning coffee. Today was no different. That is why I was surprised by the pressure I was feeling in my bowels. So, what to do? Turn around and head for home? Lately, any excuse to postpone a hike is welcomed, but today I didn’t want to give up. And even though I was on the National highway, finding a place to take a dump was not in the cards. The gas station I passed had a urinal-only men’s room and the lady’s room door was locked. So, I decided to just hold it all in and continue my hike as planned. The pressure mounted, and I was afraid to even pass gas for fear of the dreaded shart. Around the 4K mark, I was on the GOVIC highway and knew I wasn’t going to make it. Plan B was to find some woods and make like a bear. That proved to be easier thought than done. I was going to need some privacy, and that meant getting off the road. But the first couple of footpaths I spotted led to houses and no cover. At last, I picked a spot alongside a building that featured a bush blocking the view from the highway. Just as I was lowering my shorts, a dog appeared and began loudly barking at me. Fuck. This wasn’t going to work either.
I moved another 50 yards or so up the highway and spotted what appeared to be a little-used and overgrown path. I took it far enough to be away from the road and with no time to spare dropped my pants and shit on a rock. I bearly made it. It occurred to me that this was the first time in all the years I’ve been hiking, both here and in Korea, that I had found it necessary to crap without the benefit of a toilet. I hope it proves to be the final time. Well, everything came out okay, so there’s that.
Here’s the hike (sorry, no shitty pics) if you want to Relive it:
Nothing real special to report from my Saturday night. I started out at Marick’s, but my favorite bargirl wasn’t working. I was surprised and asked Marick why someone would be off on potentially the busiest night of the week. Marick said it really wasn’t her business to ask the girls why they aren’t coming to work (I disagree with that premise) but she assumed it was an issue with her husband. WHAT!? She has a husband? I specifically asked her that and she denied it. Marick just shrugged. Man, I was pissed and went on a rant. Marick told me to calm down and so I eventually did, but I wasn’t a happy camper. I had seen this girl at my house a week ago and that potentially put me at risk. I confronted her on messenger later and she continues to vehemently deny having a husband. Said she didn’t come to work because she wasn’t feeling well. So now I don’t know what to believe.
Left Marick’s place and headed over to my regular hangout, It Doesn’t Matter. Crowded with bikers from the local motorcycle club, but I was able to grab the last outside seat. My old new favorite girl, Roan, took good care of me there.
Just a couple of brews there and I was off to Mango’s for some supper. Sold out of pork chops, so I went with roast chicken and coleslaw. It hit the spot, then I hit the road for home.
I’ve already told you about my shitty morning, so that pretty much brings you up to date. Oh, I did see the eye doctor yesterday too, and the eyes continue to show improvement. The “new” eye is 20-20 and the other one is still not up to speed. I’ve gotten to where I like not having to wear glasses though, so I might just live with it. We’ll see (or maybe not) about that.
Alright then, thanks for bearing with me while I bared my soul. Yeah, I know the difference. It was all about the pun.
Damn. I was sure the punchline to that final joke was going to involve a corpse. But sexual harassment works.
I’ve had to do the shit-in-nature thing a few times, so I feel your pain.
Be careful about those women. As I’ve said before, aim higher. One day, you’re gonna pick the wrong female and suddenly find yourself on a plane for the States. Or Thailand.
Dear John,
Old Cunt Face here.
Do not listen to the cynics and their cliched retort to “How do you know a bargirl is lying? (in case you have forgotten , the answer is: “her mouth is open”).
You may say the young lady of questionable marital status is not a bargirl, because she works in a cantina, but I know you are not naive enough to split hairs on that one – or maybe I’m the one being callow.
That all being said, many men are in relationships (married even) with bargirls (ex or otherwise) and seem very content so do not be deterred in your pursuit of love.
Well, to be fair, my only “aspiration” with the gal in question was some quality time being physical. There are risks with that too, of course, including a confrontation with a jealous husband. That’s why I always ask.
Over a lifetime of broken hearts that I’ve experienced, they were all from “regular” gals–not a bargirl amongst them. So the pursuit of love thing is a perilous path wherever you look to find it. I’ve given up on that quest and will settle for some comfort in the arms of a sweet young thing now and then.