Gas Station Gag


     When I was traveling on the road over this past weekend, I certainly had my fair share of gas stations, that’s for damn tootin’ sure. Since I seem to have the world’s smallest bladder, I unfortunately had to make many stops along the way.  I tried to be selective when picking a facility to visit, but sometimes when Mother Nature comes a callin’, you just gotta do what you gotta do, even if that means peeing in a filth-ridden shitcube.  

     There are certain gas stations that I try to avoid at any possible cost, no matter how badly I may need to pee.  For example, if I see any sign whatsoever that a filling station serves some sort of fried chicken or the like, I simply cross my legs and keep on driving. There’s nothing I hate more than walking into a place smelling all good and clean and coming out smelling like the bottom of a freaking deep frier.  That crap gets stuck in your clothes, in your hair, and even in your damn skin. I mean, if I’m gonna smell like a big old bucket of KFC, then I’d at least like to have eaten a friggin’ leg or two.  The absolute worst, though, is when you’ve thoroughly checked the building’s exterior to make sure there’s no indication of fried food being served on the inside, only to have your nostrils bitch-slapped by a blast of stale grease when you walk through the doors.  I think there should be a law that requires such places to post a very visible outdoor sign that says, “We smell like ass.”  

     Once I’ve found a joint that finally seems to be acceptable, it’s anyone’s guess what the conditions of the restrooms are actually gonna be. You know you’re in for a nose-holding-pee-as-fast-as-you-possibly-can-and-get-the-hell-out-of-there experience when you walk into a stall and see shit smeared on the wall behind the toilet.  That’s never a good sign of cleanliness.  And you know you’re gonna be skipping the whole soap process when the only thing around is a lathered up bar on the sink that has a long, black hair stuck to it.  And if you’re lucky enough to find a bathroom that does have a dispenser of soap, you often discover that the only thing to dry your hands with is one of those rolling cloth towel contraptions that’s stuck to the wall, in which case you have to just go with the air dry method cause God only knows what’s been rubbed on that cloth.  

     The gas station bathrooms that totally crack me up are the ones that try to disguise their nastiness by hanging some stupid-looking basket of fake greenery above the mirror or by setting a silk bouquet of flowers by the sink or by hanging a watercolor “painting” of the beach on the wall or by setting out a jar of putrid-smelling potpourri. Look fools, you ain’t kidding nobody with those sad little decorations. It’s still glaringly obvious that you need to get some Ty-D-Bowl cleaner up in there and go to freaking town.  Those toilets don’t clean themselves, ya know.

     If at all possible, I usually prefer to stop at a restaurant instead, since their bathrooms tend to be a little more tolerable.  However, those aren’t always a safe bet either.  It really is a total crapshoot (pun intended) when you’re out on the road.  It’s better to just hope for the best and expect the worst cause finding a clean, non-smelling one is like finding a navy blue sock in a drawer full of black ones.


8 Responses

  1. I have the same policy, I will risk my bladder exploding rather than pee in some places!

  2. I try to stick to the large fueling locations. Not truck stops per se, but the huge gas stations on the interstate. If you are on the back highways; pick a chain that you usually trust (in my case, here in the Midwest, it’s Casey’s) and only use their facilities.

  3. I have a roadtrip coming up in two weeks and just reading this post is making me totally dread it. I laughed the WHOLE time I read the post, but as soon as I was done, the dread set in. Good luck with your surgery!

  4. LOL I know completely what you mean. We were out with the princess, and I needed to change her. Well, I have learned to just change her in the backseat, or if it is warm and we are in the truck, on the tailgate. We stopped at a Burger King for the bathroom on this occasion, and it turns out the bathroom was so small you couldn’t move not to mention they didn’t have a changing station. The funniest part is it was a remodeled store. I ended up having to change her in the backseat anyway. Hubby got a milkshake though, which shut him the hell up about how long it was taking.

  5. ha! funny stuff. guys have it so much easier…

    here’s a great app for those iphone users out there:

    it’s called sit or squat and it harnesses the power of the people to let you know where public bathrooms are and what their conditions are (clean, busy, etc.). works great in big cities – haven’t had the pleasure of giving it a try on the road…

  6. And that’s why God made “Depends”.

    • Yes, it most certainly is! Guess that lady who drove cross-country while wearing Depends to kill her husband knew what she was doing! (With the potty stops anyway)….

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