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December 22, 2007
Kind of Grody
So we've been driving across the country, and the trip has been mostly uneventful. There was a DQ stop somewhere in West Virginia.
A few hours later, well into the heart of Ohio, we pulled over for some gas and a pit stop.
We both had to go, but I let Robbi have the first crack at the restroom while I pumped the gas. She is the pregnant one, after all.
A few minutes later she reemerged with the warning that the restroom was "kind of grody." I took this into advisement as I headed there myself. The restroom was one of those exterior restrooms, often subject to less rigorous standards of cleanliness.
Armed with this knowledge and in light of Robbi's warning, I opened the door with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Yet no degree of warning could have prepared me for what lay behind the metal door.
It was, in all honesty, the most disgusting restroom I have ever seen. The sink was not attached to the wall, the toilet was akimbo and filled with foul fluid, the floor was flooded, miscellaneous pieces of discarded plastic were strewn about, and the place stunk like a sewer. As horrified as I was at the thought of actually using the restroom, I was even more afraid of refusing to use the restroom after my pregnant wife had braved its horrors with no more complaint than "it's kind of grody."
I did what had to be done and exited as quickly as possible.
Here's another angle, to give you a better sense of what I had to endure.
I returned to the car and asked Robbi how she could have possibly survived the restroom. She looked at me with something like pity, laughed, and asked if I had, perhaps, neglected to notice that there were two restrooms, one that was merely "kind of grody" and another, my restroom, that was unquestionably so.
Relieved though I was that Robbi had not taken our unborn child into that unholy chamber, I must admit I felt a little duped.
We shared a laugh, but as we drove away I could not help but wonder what diseases I might have contracted in my brief sojourn in the darkest, grodiest corner of Ohio.
We rest tonight in Terre Haute. Iggy is not happy. Apparently, we forgot to bring her food.
Posted by bogenamp at December 22, 2007 01:45 AM