Monday, August 15, 2016

I am the stuff of nightmares.

Everyone loathes hipsters... They are the WORST! I sit here in a coffee shop in Omaha, Nebraska... wearing a t-shirt with an inside science joke on it... with a beard... fixing a small outboard motor propeller... with my highly impractical form of transportation a few blocks away on the river... drinking a silly froo froo coffee drink... writing on my blog on my apple laptop... texting on my totally retro flip phone...  it has occurred to me...

Yep, I might be the hipsterest mother hipster on earth.  How did this happen?!?! Well, at least I am authentic in what I am doing.  Not like all those poser hipsters who are not as authentic as I am.  Right!?

Pretty sure the only more hipster moment that has ever happened was when we saw that dude in Milwaukee, wearing a fedora in a whiskey bar, practicing his calligraphy.

Second... I'll tell this story that actually happened a few weeks ago, but is worth telling.  Mostly to entertain.  Don't think you are about to get enlightened in the next few minutes.

So there I was...

There is a place called "Bob's Resort Boat Ramp" according to the Army Corp of Engineer.  As we found out, this is no where near Bob's Resort.  The original Bobs most likely started sliding into the river a decade or two ago, (probably due to the corp's efforts) and it has been rebuilt up a hill and down the highway a few miles.

Anyways... the morning Dad and I were leaving the boat ramp there. I went up to use the vault toilet. (Vault toilet is sort of like a concrete outhouse that every state north of Nebraska puts at their boat ramps.)

So I go to use the vault toilet.  There is only one reason to use a vault toilet and that is not number one, it is number two.  I wanted to get it out of the way before we got underway.  Lake Oahe is huge and it may be all day before I could find as civilized a place to number two as this concrete outhouse at formerly bob's resort.

I opened the door to go in... LORD!  it seemed to be the entrance to hell.  The stench and the swarm of flies that erupted out of the door when I opened it... It had to be be a gate to the underworld!

Didn't matter... some things just have to be done.  Besides, I was armed with a pack of baby wipes.  As it turns out, they are the antidote to any unsanitary situation.  I have even heard they cured herpies on an army dude in the first gulf war.  Ask Pat Fronk... he knows the guy. Though now that I think about it, that might have been lysol.  Either way.... I entered the little bunker of doom.

I closed the door behind me but it seems the lock was broken.  Whatever, there is no one around for miles.  Didn't think twice about it.

(Do my business... not described here.  We all know how that works)

So I get finished and I get to wiping.  (here is where the fun starts!) Did I mention the flies?  Yea, they were whirling around in the poop pit like a biological buzzing tornado.  Don't contemplate the thought for too long, but I am pretty sure these flies main diet was poop. And you are what you eat... so...

I hear a truck and trailer arrive, but think nothing of it.

Anyways... I only sat there a moment because the flies were literally landing on my butthole between wipes.  Let me assure even the most depraved SOB out there that this is not a pleasant feeling.

(I am sorry to all my readers... but if I don't document this for posterity, what will our grandkids think.  They will assume this trip was all thunderstorms and museums next to the river.)

Obviously I stood up to finish my wiping.  At least then my hairy buttcheeks were protecting my butthole from being a shit fly buffet.

I think I was on my first standing wipe, when suddenly I hear a hand on the door and the the door knob turn...


I reach for the door handle to hold it closed.... but I am to slow!


The door rips open just before my hand, still holding a bouquet of shit covered toilet paper, could grasp it and hold it closed!  A flood of daylight fills the little concrete hell.

The light floods in, a demonic swarm of flies blast out like they are escaping hell, I am basically thrusting a wad of shit covered toilet paper at the now open door inches from the door opener,  my pants are hanging at my ankles, (I had my baby wipes in my other hand and didn't want to set them down on anything so let my pants fall to my ankles rather than hold them up) and there in the perfectly lit doorframe stands one of the cutest little girl scientist I have ever seen.

There isn't a word in english for this level of awkward.

Lets just say that this poor girl was not prepared for that scene when she opened the door.

She let the door drop closed. At this point what could I do so I finished my business and step out into the parking lot to walk back to the boat.

She and her fellow scientist were making the hardest effort to ignore me as I walked past them and their truck and their boat back to the Mermaid.  Honestly, I feel like the both of us had been through a terrible trauma and could make it better with a joke, but they were hard ignoring... so I walked passed laughing to myself.

She never did go back to that vault toilet so I guess she didn't have to go that bad.


amateur.sophist said...

If only they made baby wipes for the brain. Of course, if they did, I wouldn't buy 'em until they were available from Amazon with 1-day shipping.

(You trying to epoxy that prop? Not how I would have played it)

manuel garcia said...

So.... what did you learn :-)

jjohnson said...

Gotta leave a sock on the door knob!

Missouri River Relief said...

Met you last night at Cooper's Landing. The ranting guy. May downstream rise to meet you!

Jeff Ryder said...

How's it going out there? We met at Coopers Landing also last Friday morning. Looking forward to your next post!

Notorious said...

I am not sure I learned anything from all that... I guess hold the door closed?!

Hey gents! I am through the missouri and now working down the Mississippi! Cooper's Landing was the best spot on the lower missouri!