I Sat on Some Urine

Hello from the Quail Springs Holiday Inn Express in Oklahoma City.

I used to have an insane barber. When I was very young, he was an amateur boxer. He used to challenge me to matches. As I grew larger and larger, he stopped boxing and started manufacturing homemade shotguns. He liked pointing them at me during my haircuts (these days I get my hair “styled” by a beautician). His name was John Merrick. So was the elephant man’s.

I remember a time when I first got my dog, Albert. Albert liked eating Robert’s poop (Robert was also a dog). I tried and tried to get him not to eat the poop, but he kept eating it anyhow. One day I asked the Barber John Merrick if he had any ideas for keeping Albert from eating up all of the poop. He said I shouldn’t worry about it on account of poop is just “changed food”. I thought to myself that John Merrick is right! Robert died and Albert stopped eating poop. Nowadays, Albert is fresh. I guess every cloud has a silver lining.

Anyway, upon checking into this Holiday Inn Express, I did something a little out of the ordinary by laying down on the bed without first removing the comforter. After laying around for about an hour and forty-five minutes, I decided to remove the comforter. Then I sat on the edge of the bed for a minute. Suddenly, I started feeling soggy in my pants. I reached down to where my body met the bed and it was soaked. I smelled my hand and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t sitting in a pile of somebody else’s urine!

I stood up and thought about things for a while. Then I started to almost throw up. Then I remembered that if poop is changed food, then all I’d sat in was changed drink. For a second, I almost stopped starting to throw up. Then I realized that John Merrick’s poop theory was way off. Sitting in urine is disgusting.

So I picked up the phone to call the front desk. Then I hung it up. I was afraid they’d think I was the guy who made the adult butt-sized pool of urine in the bed. I kept thinking about everything. I knew I couldn’t sleep in a toilet. I decided to call the desk…

Worker: Front desk.
Me: Hello. You probably aren’t going to believe this, and, anyway, it didn’t come out of me, but I was just relaxing on your bed when I realized I was sitting on a very large amount of urine.
Worker: (silence)
Me: It’s really gross. Somebody who isn’t me went in the bed!
Worker: You can’t be serious.
Me: I’m serious. I don’t make up stories about sitting in waste. I really don’t think I can sleep in this bed.
Worker: (silence)
Me: Do you think I could possibly move to a different room?
Worker: Yes. Come to the front desk.

I hung up and decided to account for how wet I was. When I sat in it, I was wearing my work shirt, shorts, and underpants. My shirttail was soaked through, as were my shorts and underpants. I felt my butt. It was moist. It occurred to me that, in my adult life, I’ve never had a wet butt in bed. Have you?

I went to the front desk and the lady apologized. I told her that it was okay for she was neither the one who did the urinating or the one who failed to change the sheets. I recommended that whoever “cleaned” the room be fired immediately. They moved me to a new room where I kept imagining that the new bed also had wet spots. Finally, I settled down enough to sleep albeit poorly.

What diseases can I catch from sitting in that stuff? Who would do something like that? I figure it was an old, a sicko, or the person who cleaned the room. But why would anyone leave the bed in such a mess? I think it’s pretty weird.

People wonder whether I’m going to ask for compensation. I tell people that I don’t yet want anything. If they give me my room for free, they’re really giving the government (who pays for my room) the room for free. But the government didn’t sit on the urine. I did! I’m going to write a letter to the Holiday Inn once I go home. What do you think they should give me?

Hitting Rock Bottom

Over the next week or so I’m going to try to document all of the things that have happened in the last six weeks or so. I’ll also stick in current stuff if it’s any good. We’re going to have fun!

Back before I could drive, I used to go up to Richardson Square Mall on the DART bus. The beauty of the Richardson Square Mall DART bus stop is that it’s within eyeshot of a Long John Silver’s.

The Long John Silver’s people didn’t like me. I would time my return to the bus stop so that I could stop in LJS for a box of crumbs, a cup of water, and an “I Sailed With Long John Silver’s Crew” pirate hat. Total cost - $0. Then I’d sit there eating crumbs and looking at my latest heavy metal purchase until the bus showed up. To this day, it’s easy to identify the LJS grease stains smearing the cover of my Deep Purple “Deepest Purple” record. From time to time you’ll catch me licking that album cover.

I still can’t get enough of them crumbs. They’re the batter particles that fall off all of the fried crap that Long John Silver’s serves. Six Thursday nights ago or so, I decided to stop at LJS on my way home from work. I got three chickens, hush puppies, fries, and a box of crumbs. Then I went home and ate the box of fried lard…while lying down…in bed.

As you’ll learn as I continue to update you on all of the different things that have happened to me during this blogging hiatus, I am a changed person. And it all began that night when I ate the crumbs in my bed. My mom often says that sometimes people have to hit their low point before they can make their lives better. That night with the crumbs was my rock bottom. Rest assured that despite lung cancer and heart attack scares, things are really starting to go my way! I’ll tell you about what happened next later. But first, get a load of what happened this week…