Two posts in one week?! Yes, my loyal readers, I feel you deserve another after my recent blog break - it's the least I can do. Besides, I know the torture of a cliffhanger ending - and being that I am wanting to move on from the bathroom/humiliating sea tick topics, I will give you the gritty details regarding the time an outhouse rescued me from certain death. Well, maybe not death, but it sounded better than "extreme embarassment."
Let's set the scene for you, shall I? It was the year 2000 (insert the Conan O'Brien dude singing "in the year 2000" in that hilarious tenor pitch) and Rebecca had invited me to join her and her family on a fishing trip to an island resort in Canada. I had accepted and we set off in our new love to share our first vacation together as a couple. I was a tad wary at first because I had just started dating her during the summer, and despite meeting them once, I still felt kind of like an intruder into her "family time." I was also a wee bit terrified of Mr. Doidge, as I was dating his eldest daughter and now coming along with her for a week in a secluded cabin and his domain...the fishing boat. I never felt more of a need to impress. I was afterall, completely in love with his daughter and wanted nothing more than to "pass the test" of possibity of being his future son-in-law right off the bat.
Then I learned that not only would I be coming along with Mom, Dad and her two sisters, but grandma and grandpa were coming too! Realizing I had probably bitten off more than I could chew this early on in the relationship, I began to get in the zone. The "zone" I speak of, which many of you guys will know of, is the "I need to be on my "A" game from here on out" zone. I am preparing myself for having the best week of my life as a man - exercising proper dinner table etiquette, remembering names, thinking before speaking, not being too funny but not being boring either and of course, not farting, belching or doing anything otherwise embarassing or negatively memorable during this weeklong first impression with the most important people in my sweetheart's life. In short, it was game time and I was excited but ridiculously nervous and uncertain of what lay ahead.
I passed the first tests with flying colors in my opinion - not showing the slightest bit of physical attraction or disappointment when told that I was to be sharing a motel room the first night with Rebecca and her parents. I enthusiastically accepted the cot and would have been just as thrilled to sleep in the bathtub if that was what was asked of me. Upon arriving at the cabin on the Spruce Island, I also was adamant that I sleep on the cot provided, and preferrably as far away from everyone else as possible. Any indication that I had some extracurricular activity in mind would have been the nail in the coffin. I was prefectly content with my placement in sleeping arrangements.
So, you can imagine that I was feeling pretty good about my progress so far with the Doidge's and lack of incidents. I did encounter a slight demoralizing setback the first trip out on the boat though, that nearly cost me everything. Feeling very inadequate as a fisherman, I tried to follow protocol and do nothing without supervision on John's boat - I was a servant and I would do as told without ruffling feathers. I wanted to have fun, don't get me wrong, but I wanted to avoid screwing up at all costs. So, causing him to cut off one of his fishing lures and tackle set-ups because I got snagged on something at the bottom of the lake was not my idea of scoring points with "da man." I sulked and tried to hold back the tears of disappointment and shame. Then, at the support of my wife and her sisters, I pulled myself back together and was determined to get those points back by the end the week. I was ready for a comeback.
Returning to the crammed cabin, we settled down for dinner. Again, I was an all-star and was feeling the momentum shifting in my direction once again. As things were calming down after dinner, I decided to slip upstairs to visit the bathroom for some much needed "tension release." Upon entering, my heart sank and fear crippled my body faster than spotting a sea tick lodged in my family jewels. It was a long, narrow facility with a sink, a shower and a toilet. The lighting was good, there was a window - so air flow was good, but the security and privacy was definitely going to be a major issue. The toilet was directly next to the door. And the door was ultra lightweight with an enormous opening at the bottom. Again, great for air flow purposes. But what I was feeling inside was not going to be quiet, and this door offered me zero comfort and confidence in its ability to contain what was surely about to erupt once I sat down at that seat. I panicked, but there was really no other options. I had to do what I had to do, there was no escaping. I sat down and thought about turning on the water...too obvious. I was just going to have to ease it out and muffle as best as I could. It was terrible. I think it was up there with one of the worst tension releasing sessions I have ever experienced. I was so focussed on what I heard out in the cabin and waiting for just the right time to unleash the tension - I really don't think I got much accomplished. Anytime I made any type of squeak, I felt like I was finished - I would walk out of the door and see everyone avert their eyes from my direction, holding their breath and hiding their awkwardness. I did my best to not take too much time and still do what I could, but it was hopeless. The anger and desperation was welling up inside of me. Who puts the toilet right next to the door? Who leaves such a gap at the bottom of the door? What in the world is this door made of and why did they feel it necessary to use it on the bathroom? It was not a good feeling, inside and out. I left the bathroom defeated - the wind was out of my sails, but not out of where I needed it to be out of most.
The next day while taking a walk alone to the main lodge to call my parents and give them an update, I was literally praying that God would give me another option. Almost as if I had entered the world of Harry Potter, there appeared my room of requirement. Barely able to contain my excitement, I ventured over for a closer look. And there, to my delight, I discovered an outhouse back off the beaten paths of the island. Not wasting any time to break it in, I saddled up and was met by all the comforts of home - privacy, plenty of TP and even a magazine rack. The best part of all - no worry of plugging it up, being too loud or stinking up the cabin - I was free!! From that moment on I took a daily walk to "call my parents." I don't remember if I ever did earn those points back that week, but I surely didn't lose anymore. I can also tell you that as the week progressed I fell more in love with Rebecca and a couple of new loves were also born - for the Doidge's and of course, the life-saving outhouse.
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