Sorry, It’s Just Me

My therapist says that I don’t need to apologize for some of the crazy thoughts I have, but sometimes I feel I need to. Like this story.

As you know, I have been running around my local area performing dozens of times in outdoor settings as a part of the Gazebo Tour 2005. Recently something happened that struck me funny. Something I don’t think many other people would have caught.

I had just finished a show at an outdoor community park (that shall remain unnamed) when, before leaving, I decided to make a rest stop. Now when you have to go pretty bad, you can easily understand why they call them ‘rest rooms’ because of the way you feel rested when you are done.

Anyway, the only restroom in sight was one of those temporary port-a-pots. You know what I mean - plastic portable outhouses.

“OK, that will have to do.” I thought. But as I approached, I saw the weirdest thing. Placed along the road on the outskirts of the park, they happened to place this port-a-pot next to a sign that read “NO DUMPING”.

What else are you supposed to do with a potty if you can’t take a dump? The sign said ‘No Dumping’ so I didn’t.

I just went #1! (and felt better afterwards)


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