Around the corner he comes, looking very pleased with himself. In his hand? A folding shovel, and a portable toilet seat that is supported by four legs.
Amused, yet more than a little mortified, the wife accompanies him to the checkout, places her items on the counter…and quickly exits stage left to loiter at the entrance, leaving him to pay.
Later, they are talking with one of his fishing buddies, and the wife updates the fishing buddy on her husband’s embarrassing purchase. She thought that her husband had purchased the toilet for the camping and river trips the two men take upon occasion. She is quickly corrected by her husband. He informs his wife and his friend that he bought both toilet and shovel to assist him in taking care of "business" during his long work days out in the oilfield. The fishing buddy laughs, and more ribbing ensues.
(Her husband’s good ol’ boy fishing buddies have given him no end of grief concerning his love for the environment, taking care of business, not trashing the camping surroundings, etc. Matter of fact, she says they now call him “Dudley”, the character played by William H. Macy in the movie “Wild Hogs.” She is of the opinion that her husband mistakenly believes he is helping his buddies become a little more citified out there at the fishing camp.)
I know why the husband wants to take this little jewel of a toilet to work. The oilfield is one of those places that has virtually seen no changes after all these years, at least in the area of personal comforts. There is a distinct lack of amenities out there. One can be two hours from the nearest town and no facilities in sight. Guys have it easier than women, yet none differ when that certain need comes upon us.
A month or so later, the husband, staying out of town, calls his wife. They go over the happenings of their respective days. He begins to tell her a story.
Husband: “Remember my little camping toilet I purchased at Academy?"
Husband: "Well, I was putting it to use today. I dug a little hole, situated the toilet, grabbed my book.”
Wife: “Grabbed your book? You are out in the middle of nowhere. Why do guys have to read when this particular body function is going on? Oh, my Lord. Okay, honey, continue…I’m sorry I interrupted you. It’s just that anybody could drive by, at anytime.”
Husband: “As I was saying, I dug my little hole, and settled in. I finished my business, and shifted to put my book on the top of my truck. I thought “Wow, this thing is really sturdy!” and, just to test it, I wiggled on it a bit…"
Husband: “I felt it start to give. The legs collapsed on my toilet seat…and I fell. Right into my business.”
Wife: “What? What did you say?”
Husband repeats himself, adding “I had it everywhere. I’m running around with my coat on, my pants around my boots, trying to get everything cleaned up. I had to almost totally undress.”
Wife, tears of laughter running down her face, buries her head in the pillow.
Wife: "Where were the little receptacle sacks?"
Husband: "I guess they blew out of my truck, I can't find them. And, anyway, as I was cleaning up, I realized – the pulling unit was only a football field away – and Joe's up in the derrick. I look up, and Joe is staring down at me. He’s seen everything. He waved at me.”
The wife is laughing hysterically, as is the husband.
Wife sputters: “Do you think he’ll still respect you in the morning?”
Story disclaimer: Any content submitted to Sounding Forth via method of voice, written or otherwise may or may not be posted. The acceptance of any particular content is not related to its value or merit. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Any resemblance between Janie, MLH or the persons herein and real persons living or otherwise is purely incidental. And that’s the twuth…