Guest Post Saturday

A happy snowy and bum freezing Saturday to everybody. It's snowing here (again) as I speak, and it's lovely! Just what we wanted!

Now, speaking of bum freezing, and because I have become a bit of a slacker when it comes to weekend blogging, I decided to host a Guest Post. This is a cute little story, and, because it didn't happen to me, I thought that it would have more impact coming from that person.

With that said, I give you the Guest Post Saturday.

IT'S MY POTTY AND I'LL FREEZE (IT OFF) IF I WANT TO...

As guest blogger, I have the dubious distinction of having biomatter as subject matter. Oh well, I'll try and make the best of it regardless.

The story begins as your intrepid guest blogger, in a fit of goodwill and sensible business acumen, offers to help with the programming of an electronic system at a municipal water treatment and pumping facility for a local city. The facility is newly rebuilt but not yet complete, and lacks, as it turns out, certain amenities.

I reach the place at the appointed time but with another matter firmly in mind, so to speak. Namely, I have a desperate urge to use their bathroom. This is an occupational hazard for those of us otherwise blessed with sales type jobs. When you gotta "go", you gotta get somewhere other than your mobile office. I found myself in precisely this circumstance that day.

"No problem", I say to myself, "Self, you can use the potty at the new treatment facility". I pop my head in the door and query the first hard-hatted contractor I spy. "How you doin?...Where's the toilet?" I ask. "There isn't one in here. You have to use the porta potty outside", he replies. I look across the small parking lot in the direction he indicates. There it is. A small, person-sized, green and yellow cubicle. No insulation. No heating. It's minus 13 degrees Celsius (9 degrees above, Fahrenheit) and windy as all heck.

"OK, thanks", I say to the guy. And off I go. It's not an ideal situation, but hey, when you don't have any other choices, what are you going to do? "After all", I think to myself, "how bad can it really be?".

I trudge acrosss the parking lot, open the door and enter. I suddenly have a fervent hope that no neighborhood kids are hanging around with porta-potty tipping on their minds. Saw that video on the web from Iraq where some US soldiers waited till one of their mates was so positioned so they could charge the potty and knock it over with him still inside. "Don't be paranoid", I say to myself, "Quicker I get done, faster I get out".

I lower the seat. I look deep into the holding pond inside. Hell, it looks like a lake, complete with an icy layer on top, about 18 inches down from the seat. God only knows what the hell else is just below the surface Oh well, down pants, down shorts, down butt on seat. I was getting uncomfortably cold already in parts of the body that don't appreciate cold much, and aren't used to it either. As you have probably already gathered, this wasn't for job #1. No, this was for job #2. And this call of nature wasn't taking "later" for an answer.

I didn't think things could get more uncomfortable but as soon as, uhm, the biomatter reached terminal velocity into the "pond" 18 inches below, I quickly received the opposite reaction in the form of a chemical butt wash from the "splash". This happened about five times in quick succession. I could only imagine what was in the sub-freezing liquid (not to mention anti-freeze) that was splashing me and tried to focus on "hurry the #@$% up". It was at about this moment when the wind factor came into play, however. You see the potty tank has a big vent pipe to allow the "vapors" to escape without poisoning the whole cubicle. At this moment however, it was serving as an intake pipe for the wind howling outside. So, there I sat, already cold, now also wet, with what felt like a gale force freezing wind blasting across my private parts. "Great", I think to myself, "Does it get any better than this?".

Job finally done, paperwork complete, I escape the torturous "relief" chamber. "Well", I think, "it could have been worse. At least there were no kids around to play practical jokes like potty tipping".

Next time I'll hit the nearest coffee shop BEFORE I reach the construction site.