Saturday, July 19, 2008
Symphony in the Park – my loo break!
It took quite a while to navigate through probably 300 people and finally reach something other than grass. From there, it was only 50 yards or so to a row of portable toilets. If that word is distasteful to Americans even in the setting of a concert with maybe 40,000 in attendance, I would appreciate someone posting a suitable alternative here. Rest Room? I really don’t think so!
At one point near the end of my navigation, with me appearing to have no grass options available to me, a rather shapely, pretty, smiling young lady invited me to take the path to her rear. And a fine path it was, adorned by a rare, fine cleavage protruding above her low cut jeans. I did manage to smile at her face as I passed, but confess it went against my more natural inclinations!
There was a long row of maybe 20 little cabins, each with its own queue. Naturally, the further away from where the bulk of the people are coming from, the smaller the line. I am ever grateful that so few people can be bothered to work this out!
When there was only one person in front of me, someone came out of the cabin to my left, saying “I don’t know about that one!” He was shaking his head and muttering about the unpleasantness. Those around me, obviously veterans of the portaloo experience, took it in our stride, although I did make comments that I wasn’t sure exactly what he expected and also that you really have to suspend your normal standards for these occasions – either that or wait for 3 or more hours until the concert finishes and you get home!
The woman behind me offered her place to the heavily pregnant woman who was next in that line, but she accepted her fate and stayed put. Finally it was my turn. The urinal had been stuffed with plastic, so I ignored that. Everything else was as I expected. If you look down, you will see things you’d prefer not to see, but how many of us successfully avoid looking, even though we already know we shouldn’t!
As I left, I held the door open for the woman behind me and said: “Well this one is just lovely!” Chuckles all round as I prepared to brave the crowds for my return journey. I ended up about 8 blankets behind my gathering. Not too bad. And then the concert began.
At one point near the end of my navigation, with me appearing to have no grass options available to me, a rather shapely, pretty, smiling young lady invited me to take the path to her rear. And a fine path it was, adorned by a rare, fine cleavage protruding above her low cut jeans. I did manage to smile at her face as I passed, but confess it went against my more natural inclinations!
There was a long row of maybe 20 little cabins, each with its own queue. Naturally, the further away from where the bulk of the people are coming from, the smaller the line. I am ever grateful that so few people can be bothered to work this out!
When there was only one person in front of me, someone came out of the cabin to my left, saying “I don’t know about that one!” He was shaking his head and muttering about the unpleasantness. Those around me, obviously veterans of the portaloo experience, took it in our stride, although I did make comments that I wasn’t sure exactly what he expected and also that you really have to suspend your normal standards for these occasions – either that or wait for 3 or more hours until the concert finishes and you get home!
The woman behind me offered her place to the heavily pregnant woman who was next in that line, but she accepted her fate and stayed put. Finally it was my turn. The urinal had been stuffed with plastic, so I ignored that. Everything else was as I expected. If you look down, you will see things you’d prefer not to see, but how many of us successfully avoid looking, even though we already know we shouldn’t!
As I left, I held the door open for the woman behind me and said: “Well this one is just lovely!” Chuckles all round as I prepared to brave the crowds for my return journey. I ended up about 8 blankets behind my gathering. Not too bad. And then the concert began.
