Sunday, March 27, 2011

He saw my downstairs mix-up

In 2006 a friend and I went to a pricey outdoor concert. We staggered around in 92 degree weather doing our best to ignore the lure of $12 water. I slathered on the 85 SPF sunscreen and watched high kids stare at their right hands in wonder. We sat through rain, Canadian ska acts, and "comedy" routines.

We met some fascinating folks, got some programs signed and saw some amazing bands.

Oh and I accidentally flashed some guy.

In my heat beleaguered state I forgot that an essential step for bathroom privacy involves locking the port-a-john. Also I naively assumed when I asked my friend to guard the door he would stand near it and not 12 feet away.

Now I have a slight fear of germs so I had perfected a method of evacuation that ensured no part of me would touch that seat. Unfortunately, this also means that when that unassuming hippie opened the door he got more than he was bargaining for.

Above all else that memory is the stand out experience of three days of music. I wonder it it's his as well?


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