Enraged With My Sister- Part 1-Les Toilettes


Here is where I sit tonight typing this post enraged….completely enraged while 20-somethings giggle next to me as they lace each others skates up and at the prospect of ice skating. At least there is a heater in here and I’m starting to feel my toes again.

This evening started out at a Japanese Steak House downtown as it always does for my sister, S’s birthday. After pineapple and ice cream, S got the fanfuckingtastic idea to go ice skating for the first time since it was “right around the corner” and her birthday. Of coarse my sons were Team Ice Skate because they had never been.

“Sorry guys, I just spent $21 on balls today.” I said thinking ‘that’s what she said’. I had taken them to a golf dome to hit golf balls. I thought this announcement would put an end to this nonsense.

“Nooooo!” They protested in unison.

“You guys aren’t following me,” I said as I began to get frustrated. “I only brought so much money since my card has a fraud lock on it. I don’t have enough money to cover skating.”

“I’ll pay,” my sister piped up.

“Problem solved,” P responded triumphantly smiling in my direction.

‘Thanks ass hole.’ I said in my head as I glared at her.

Right around the corner was just over half a mile away. If it were at least 45 degrees out, this length wouldn’t be an issue. It was 31 and I had on just a short sleeve shirt along with a thin long coat and the below shoes without socks because I thought we were just going to dinner.

imageBefore we left the restaurant, I felt like I had to go to the bathroom but knew I could hold it for the restrooms inside the ice rink.

As we walked, S would occasionally say, “Just a little farther,” while looking at her phone then looking up at the sky as if she was following the North Star.

A few minutes later, “just a little farther.”

“Where is it?” C asked.

“Just over there.” She said pointing in a vague area in front of us. She clearly had no clue.

Just as we crossed a street to a park illuminated with bright lights, it hit me.

“Wait. This is outside?” I asked.

“Yeah, of coarse it is.” She responded as if I had just asked if oceans were outside.

“No, no, no, no, no! What in the World? It’s 30 some degrees. We aren’t dressed for this.”

By now the boys were whining too.

“I never said it was inside guys.” She protested.

“Yeah but when it’s this cold you don’t stay outside.” I said while jumping up and down attempting to stay warm.

First let me say, I am not an outdoorsy person when it’s warm, let alone in the winter. I have never once uttered the phrase, “I can’t wait to hit the slopes.” If I go to Hell, please know that is when Hell will freeze over because being cold is torture.

We continued to soldier on. After a hundred feet we came upon a large white tent with music blasting. Because it was shelter, we went inside to find a live band, people dancing and a bar. I had to say it.

“You have a baby. In a bar.”

That was the only thing that came to my head. At the age of 39, I was the oldest while my sons were the youngest. Again, great plan S.

As we looked around in the tent I realized I couldn’t hold it anymore. I went up to the bartender and asked where the restrooms were located. I knew what the answer was but I was in denial: port o’ johns.

Why is it that we are at a place in human history where we can clone certain organs or we can change the sex of a human, yet no one has come up with anything better than an airplane size bathroom with a toilet that is nothing more than a large hole open to the excrement of the last 75 people? And have you ever been the first person to shit in a port o’ john? I’ll tell you this much, I’ve never been #1. I’ve never looked down and seen a clean slate.

So I had my long cream coat on and my Louis Vuitton handbag for the evening. I was dressed for dinner, not a port o’ john. Because port o’johns have not been updated in over 100 years, there were no lights nor a place to hang your coat or purse. There was a ledge just above the massive shit hole that I placed my purse on, praying it did not topple over into the hole. I took the below picture just before admitting defeat and using this archaic contraption.

How luxurious!

At least the door featured a bar that you could hold on to as you squat. The Engineers thought of everything, including a mirror behind the bar so you could watch your self as you went.

“Oh my God, oh my God. I cannot believe this is happening.” I said as I held onto the bar with my left hand while holding my coat up with my right. I was hoovering and certain I had probably pissed on myself. I continued to whine through the whole process, not giving 2 shits if anyone could hear me.

Eventually I found my way to the sole comfort of this devil compound, the locker rooms. I will be posting part 2 tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. I’m traumatized from the toilet right now.


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