(re-run)
It was a long train ride from Lima to Cuzco, or maybe it was from Cuzco to Machu Picchu. At any rate, I was on a train with a bunch of Peruvians and my roommate, Kristy.
Trains give me motion sickness, as do boats, cars, planes, swings, and carnival rides. It’s a miracle that I’ve been to so many countries (Spain, France, Germany, Denmark, The Netherlands, Sweden, Norway, Switzerland, Italy, Morocco, Venezuela, Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, Mexico, and Canada).
“We’re getting close to our stop,” Kristy said.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” I said.
I walked through the train cars to the restroom and went inside. It was a big bathroom, with a window, the top half open, right next to the toilet. The bottom half was frosted glass. I sat down to pee and enjoyed the blue sky through the window, the window opening about shoulder height.
I felt the train slowing down. We were coming to a station on a raised platform. Suddenly my sky view through the window changed to people walking by, at eye level. My pants were down, I was still on the pot, and people were looking at me through the open window.
Oh! This is not good!
As long as I stay seated, no one can see anything.
We were in that station for five to ten minutes.
Crap! Is this where we are supposed to get off?
I saw a name on the station building that didn’t look familiar. Thank God it wasn’t our stop.
People’s heads kept walking past me.
How did I ever get into this situation?
It’s a good thing Peruvians are short!
When the train pulled away from the station, I was able to get up from the toilet, pull up my pants, wash my hands and go back to my seat.
“Where have you been?” Kristy asked. “I thought you got off the train or something!”
“Kristy, you won’t believe what happened,” I said.
Couldda Wouldda Didda
Maybe that’s why I have regular dreams about peeing in public.
Because I did, kind of, although no one actually saw anything.
I hope.