Porta-Potty Peril

“It must be tough to be a highway construction worker,” says Rissa.

“Hmmmm?” I respond.  I glance towards the central median of the 401, taking in the construction zone.  “Yeah, especially when you’re working there.”

“I mean, when do you pooh?”

“Pardon?”

“They’ve got Porta-Potties, but really, who could ever be comfortable enough to actually have a pooh, when there are cars whizzing by you at 100kms an hour?”

“I guess you get used to it.”

“HOW?!?  How would that be possible?  Most people aren’t comfortable poohing in a public washroom…”

She’s right.  I myself, couldn’t poop with anyone nearby until well into my 20s – until I’d developed a spastic colon because of my unwillingness to acknowledge that a #2 was a part of life and sometimes when one did it there was noise.

“I’d be there all day.  I couldn’t do it.  I would have to wait until 3:00 a.m. and then do my business.”

“Let’s light a candle for them when we get home, to give them strength.”

“Oh God, they’re mostly dudes.  Mostly dudes nervously using a Porta-Potty on the 401.  They can’t light a candle in there.   How can we send bulk Poo-Pourrie to road workers??”