RIDING ON A BUS
It took two days on the bus to get to Washington DC with
a group of thirty-one seniors who were visiting the Capital in late October. We
did all the sights with a remarkable guide who knew all the ins and outs of the
Capital streets, we walked the grounds of the White House and everywhere was
just teeming with residents and tourists enjoying the perfect weather. I’ll
tell you about all that later.
Right now you’ll hear of the “right of passage” I had as
a bus passenger. There is always a bathroom on a long distance bus tour.
However, you’re told that the bus will stop every two hours to be able to use
the facilities at a fast food place or state rest area.
I usually take a prescribed water pill in the morning for
blood pressure, but I ‘m a smart person, so I hold off on taking my pills until
later when I know it won’t be a problem. For five days I did this.
On the sixth day we left Florence, S.C. for the last leg
of our trip. Everyone got up with the knowledge that we would be home in time for
dinner and that our stops would be few. We had a lovely breakfast at our motel
and as we left, I realized I had stupidly taken my water pill.
Now I started to feel uncomfortable. What if when we stop
several hours later, I’ll get up and not be able to control myself? Two hours
later, we pull off the highway to stop at a McDonalds, only to discover there
wasn’t one and no other fast food place for our large bus. Our guide asked how
many had to use a restroom. I was the only one to hold up my hand. I was asked
to hold it for a while if I could, so I agreed.
After fifteen minutes or so, I decided to use the
bathroom on the bus. I moved to the back where I was told by the
people sitting there to not close the door all the way because it would lock
and I wouldn’t be able to get out. I was to leave it ajar and someone would
hold it closed with their foot.
This sixty passenger bus was not the smooth riding one we
would normally be on for a long trip, so there was a lot of bouncing around.
This was my first experience “doing my business” on a bus. There is a handle on
either side of the door to hang onto. Pulling down slacks and underwear is a
little difficult with one hand, but pulling them up is almost impossible, what
with the bus bouncing and the door swinging. Finally I was able to open the
door the whole way to leave, when the bus suddenly stops and the guide announced
I was to be first one off the bus.
That wasn’t necessary now as I climbed out. My legs were
shaking with all the stress of trying to stay upright in the facility. We were
at a state rest stop, so the bus was parked in an upper area reserved for
trucks and busses. It was a long walk to the restrooms, so by the time I got
inside there were long lines of waiting women and I realized that the best
thing I did was to use the bus facilities. I told anyone who was interested
that the experience was enlightening. Bus restrooms are not made for women only
for men.
