July 22, 2004
PISS BOTTLE EPISODE
Yesterday afternoon, running a little behind, heading east on I-40 between Gallup and Albuquerque: an overturned big rig miles up the road shut down the interstate, and traffic was stopped. Curses! Now we’re really behind schedule. We’d been sitting parked among big rigs and fellow civilian travelers for an hour, scrub Indian reservation land and thunderheads to the horizon, when Katie’s longtime theory about median strip piss bottles came up as a conversation topic. Briefly, Katie has been observing plastic bottles resting in grassy Interstate median strips for years, and is convinced they are bottles that (male) drivers piss in and toss out the window to avoid stopping to use roadside facilities.
Rob is convinced of the solidity of his wife’s theory, Paul M agreed, and Paul L. of course was duty bound to object. Almost immediately Rob spotted what he considered a prime piss bottle suspect glinting in the New Mexico sun. After some negotiation, Rob agreed to confirm the identity of any fluid in the container, and Paul L. leapt out of the idling Yukon, snatched the brown liquid filled bottle from the median detritus, raced back to the Yukon, passed the bottle to driver Paul M., who handed it to Rob.
As Paul L. scrambled into the back seat, annoyed truckers looking down from their rigs, Rob took a strong whiff from the median strip bottle, began screaming, “Oh, god! Oh, god! Take it away!” Paul jumped out, tossed the now verified piss bottle back into the median strip, jumped back in the car. Rob continued his anguished wail. Apparently the water evaporates in the hot sun, leaving a very acidic liquid behind.
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Paul L surly is a "show me" kind of guy, but, in this case, curiosity seems to have eluded reason. Just a warning for Paul L. Too much sniffing of that miasmal, and the elixir may drive the recipient to become dangerous and mad! On the up side, it heightens creative writing. Wayne to Paul L, from one golden shower lover to another. Admit it, you miss the bars on Sunset, strangely filled with only buckaroos. And I miss those old old cowboy song, "Oh Dan can you see that big green tree where the waters running free and it's waiting there for you and me.
By the way, great story and insight into spending too much time on the road and eating at Taco Bells.
Just a note to Paul M. I just purchased some more fantastic wine. My refrigerator is getting so heavy that I fear it may crash through the floor. But I have been sleeping well all through the night as of late!
WayneO
Posted by: Wayne at July 27, 2004 02:06 PM
Hey guys,
Glade the road is treating you well. I wish I was back out on the road.
Anyways, here’s story for you all.
A few years ago my girlfriend and I made an early morning visit to pick up a singer for a session. It was around noon and when we arrived he was in the bed with the pillow over his head and the smell of a hard night floating above him. We were the last thing he wanted to see. The room had many different brands and sizes of booze bottles laying everywhere. I started harassing him with comments like. “Looks like you had a full evening last night, etc…” My girlfriend tried to join in on the harassment by pointing out that they didn’t really party last night because there was still a full forty ounce bottle of King Cobra malt liquor left. She was holding it in her hand with sweat beads dripping off it like it just came out of the icebox. She commented, “but why is it so warm?” the singer looked up from under the pillow and spoke his only words of the day, “It’s my piss.” My gal laughed knowing that he was kidding and continued to inspect the bottle. I knew the singer and I knew he wasn’t kidding. So I let her sit there reading the label on the bottle.
The weird thing is it went down a lot easier than King Cobra.
Posted by: Charlie McGovern at August 5, 2004 04:00 PM