
Every state in the Union probably has it’s
South Mountain and Pennsylvania is no different. Yes, it is true that I have pooped outdoors
on the peaks of South Mountain in both Arizona and PA. How many men can boast as much, I do not
know. However, this story is more
unsettling, more startling and more bizarre for it is the tale of The Zero Acre Woods.
I was heading down the back side of South
Mountain toward Center Valley when with the speed of lightning IBS struck and I
was forced to look for a place to poop.
I had planned a delightful round of golf on this early April day. It was
unusually warm and sunny though many of the Pennsylvania trees and shrubs had
no leaves yet. I knew that at that time that
Center Valley was mostly forest land and so I was confident that I could easily
find a place for relative privacy to do
what I had to do do.
I pulled over on a flat area, slammed the
truck in Park, grabbed my emergency roll and with the dexterity and quickness
of Peter Rabbit disappeared into the woods.
By this time IBS was pushing poop with the force of The Incredible Hulk
on steroids. I found a small clearing,
dropped my draws and let loose without the ability to stop even if I had the
intention.
I relaxed a
little and looked up. Imagine my
surprise to find that I was a mere 10 foot through scant woods and brush from
squatting on someone’s freshly mown front yard. Yes, before my eyes were about 40 brand new
homes that hadn’t been there last time I drove by. Stately homes they were and many had the telltale
signs of life like cars in driveways, dog houses and swing sets. The one closest to my position had a large
picture window with pretty, open curtains facing directly toward me.
I could not see anyone in the window, nor did I observe a living soul anywhere and for that I thank The Lord. However, I cannot help think that if someone did happen to look in my direction from a vantage point that I couldn’t see, they could not help but see me in my bright Yellow golf shirt and bright yellow golf hat squatting in what had become The Zero Acre Woods.

Without further incident I finished my
business, scurried back to the truck and off to the golf course where a shot a
very nice round of 86. On the way home
as I passed The Zero Acre Woods I thought how lucky I was to have not
encountered an angry homeowner with a bow and arrow. The thought of myself pictured in the local
paper, pants around my ankles, still squatting, clad in bright yellow with an
arrow pinning me to a tree still haunts my dreams to this day.
Don't Curse a Stinker
Don't Curse a Stinker
A colleague of mine read this one at lunch time and laughed out loud several times.
ReplyDeleteHe then called it a "masterpiece of shit".
I think he liked it.
I sure hope I haven't found my "niche". I don't want to be know only as a proprietor of poopie prose.
I have branched out. It's going pretty well.
DeleteI have always known you were full of...
ReplyDeleteWell, I warned you. Thank you for visiting. Come back anytime but, bring your own TP.
DeleteSnd this one to a magazine...maybe "Outdoor Life",
ReplyDeleteWhere is the movement to provide all citizens of this great country access to a porta-potty when we need one?
DeleteThank you for visiting my blog and commenting. May you never be caught without TP.
IBS isn't fun, glad you did not end up on the front page of the local newspaper :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for visiting my blog http://answeritsa.wordpress.com/
Thank you for visiting me.
DeleteLove the idea of you looking up and seeing all those houses and hoping...hoping...
ReplyDeleteYes, it is funny,,,now. Thanks for playing.
DeleteOh the horror you must have felt when you looked up and saw those houses!!! Perhaps you should purchase a big van and install your own traveling bathroom...
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you can find the humor. It is no fun living with IBS.
The Van sounds like a good idea.
DeleteThanks for visiting and may you never run out of TP.
When you gotta go, you gotta go. Loved this.
ReplyDeleteHave a fabulous Silly Sunday. ☺
As an IBS American, I thank you for your support.
DeleteHave a great week.
Oh, goodness, as someone who does a lot of backcountry camping and hiking, I certainly can relate to having to take care of things like that in the woods - and sometimes being nervous about the only spot I can find to do it - but I can't even imagine what "fun" it must be to deal with something like IBS and have to worry about that so much more often. Your writing style in this post was so engaging - so glad you linked up with us at #FridayFrivolity this week!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. I live to make people laugh.
DeleteWell described trip to the golf course.
ReplyDeleteIt was a great day except for my little side trip.
DeleteHi Agent 54,
ReplyDeleteYou are such a funny writer! I see you're a comedy writer! I can see why!
Thanks for bringing your post to Blogger's Pit last week.
Janice, Pit Stop Crew
Thank you for playing.
DeleteSh*t happens and when it does you just got to go. lol thanks for sharing on Words on Wednesday.
ReplyDeleteYes it does. Thanks for not shooting me with an arrow.
DeletePretty funny, Timothy. Someone posted this in my stream so here I am. I should add you to a circle on G Plus.
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed it. I write funny stuff. Thanks for visiting. Please come back early and often.
Delete