Along for the ride:

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Porta-Potty Nightmare Revisited

This post was written in my early blogger days and I was reminded of these emotions by Owen, over at Magic Lantern Show . Over and above his obsession for the charm of such "places of necessity" his blog is full of wonderful original thoughts and images.

January 2009

I like my life. I am not a worrier. I don't go around pre-imagining problems. This said, I fear porta-potties....
No-one likes them. They are an evil necessity, but I am confronted by my nemesis more than most.
My aforementioned life includes regular visits to construction sites. I carry a tape-measure and note-book and pencil. I speak "Contractor". My flat shoes and I are usually welcome as they quickly realize that I am a problem-solver and all I want is a happy client and a job that can move forward.
In my daily travels I sometimes need to pee. In order to use the facilities you first have to find them. Traipsing around the outside of a half-built house looking for that glimmer of blue-green somewhere up the hill or behind the tree. Wherever it is to be found, a porta-potty is almost guaranteed not to be set upon level ground, as if a rocking motion will add comfort to the experience. Sometimes one will be leaning drunkenly over a precipice. Sometimes it is deliberately placed in full view, front and center so everyone can see you struggle with the door and then listen for any sound effects. The best case senario is when p-p is to be found in a blue puddle. This indicates a recent cleaning and the possibility of toilet paper.
Negotiate the door; remember to relinquish note-book, tape measure etc. before entering. If it doesn't rock, don't be lulled into a false sense of security yet. Place feet slightly spaced and well centered on the floor. Execute a swivel and release button and zipper; being careful to gather up the legs of your trousers from the bottom so that they do not dangle on the damp floor. Assess your balance one more time and lower your backside whilst leaning forward. If you achieve stability of seating without changing the center of gravity you may survive another day without the dreaded Porta-Potty Tip Over.


  1. Knowing you as I do, this post is twice as funny!

    You go, girl! I love your new blog and am puce green with envy to see that A Tidings of Magpies is following you! I love that woman. I want to be her when I grow up! I am soooo impressed. So there!

    Love the new banner and sidebar decorating that you've been doing, too.

    Bises et encore,

  2. Thanks for your instigation of my bloggism. I wish I didn't have a full time job/life etc. I could do this all day. I love what some people are sharing. I am a blogaholic.

  3. Well, dahling, all I can say is, "It takes one to know one." and I always knew you would be if I could just entice you away from your real life for just one moment. Don't forget, I have years' worth of emails from you and I know a writer when I read one.

    Additionally, you have been leading a very interesting life and keeping it all to yourself. I thought it was a shame not to get started on sharing it with the rest of us. I also thought that there were legions of bloggers whom you would love if you got out there and discovered them.

    I am so happy that you are launched. One day we will do a duoblog post of our shared experiences. And just think, we've only just begun.

    Chapeau, cherie!

  4. I laughed and laughed untill the tears were rolling while I read this post. I have also had the privelege of experiencing a couple of porta-potty adventures and your description of getting seated is just to close to the truth to ignore. Thank you for a really good belly-laugh.

  5. Dreaded Porta Potty Tip Over...this is priceless...Oh man, you are a trip English Rider....hilarious...and being female in this world, we have all experienced this precise predicament.

  6. Yeah - these port-a-loos make you long for the old days where you just threw your poo out of a window onto a passer by. They're awful!

    Not as bad as the electric ones where you're never entirely sure you've managed to lock the door...

    Very good post :)

  7. Pixie, I agree. I also hate toilets that make their own flushing decisions. Whatever next?

  8. The porta potty dread, is, perhaps universal. I actually did hear a story where one blew over with someone inside. Details were sketchy, but it wasn't "pretty."

    Owen certainly does have a humorous assessment of the "evil necessity." *G*

  9. Tee hee... and if you can read the writing at the bottom of the porta potty, you will then know that you are peeing / crapping at an acute 45 degree angle.
    Love the post!

  10. Jean, I also steer clear of potty-laden trucks on the freeway. You never know!
    Mrs. Machinist, Thanks for coming along for the ride. I can't wait for more comments from your multi cultural sense of humour.

  11. Oh dear oh dear oh dear, I can see my reputation for smiling at some of life's fondamental problems is gaining momentum across the blogosphere... I'm not sure I'm going to come out smelling like roses ; but that's just the way the outhouse tumbles I guess... err... the way the cookie crumbles I meant ...

    A shame you couldn't modify the text on the Comments' label to read for this post only :

    10 Sounds of Passing Gas . . .

    Well, I'm not the only one with some bathroom humor to share; on the Outhous / Dunny post just a couple back at my place, did you notice the link that Loulou of Indiaphragme left for the Toilet Museum in New Delhi ??? Not to be missed.

    Well, I've got some more toiletteries up my sleeve (that sounds wrong somehow) which are just going to have to see the light of day, one day very soon... In fact just this very afternoon while out rambling around I photographed the door to a public toilets place that looks like it's from back in the fifties... will share soon.

    In any case, humbly, thanks for the nod here, even it's accompanied by a cesspool splash ! Your story here is still as hilarious on re-reading as it was the first time... I think it's good to re-cycle posts sometimes... or could we call a re-cycled post... compost ?

  12. And of course I meant "fundamental" and not "fondamental", you can see how the French spellings sometimes try to worm their way into my English, fundamental is more fun, while I'm almost fond now of fondamental...
    aww, forget it, that's just me going mental...

  13. Owen, mental or montal, as you wish. It follows the synapses-connection "au fond du porta potty", n'est ce pas? Les faux amies