A Road Trip to Wilkes-Barre

On Saturday, I drove to Wilkes-Barre because DeSales was facing off against Kings' College in both men's and women's basketball. The men won convincingly, while the women lost by 1 in a tight game. This story has nothing to do with the games.

This trip takes me about 90 minutes through the mountains, with my ears popping about every five seconds. I had exercised earlier in the morning, and was getting a slight headache, so I stopped and drank two bottles of water. The headache departed but now I needed to take a leak. Of course, that hit me suddenly, nowhere near anything. So I pulled over along Rte 80 and pretended to be inspecting something while I was really watering the weeds. I got back in the car and continued up and down those mountains. This must must have done wonders for my digestion. Now, instead of needing to urinate, I needed to take a dump. I figured I could last until Wilkes-Barre.

Did you know there's no parking in Wilkes-Barre? I had forgotten that important little detail. I spent a good 20 minutes looking a spot and finally found one, a good half mile from the gym.

Did you know parking costs an arm and a leg in Wilkes-Barre? For a quarter, I got ten minutes. There was nothing in which I could feed a credit or debit card, but I could install an application called Pango and use it. So I started, and as more minutes ticked away, I realized I now needed to go both ways, and badly. In addition to the app, there was also a number I could call, so I tried that.

A recording on the other end told me that, if I was over 50, I qualified for a special discount, and I should press a number. I did so and some woman got on and started trying to sell me a medical ID badge. I could see how that might be really helpful if I passed out along the road, and was found in a pile of excrement. But this was not the time. I tried telling the lady on the other end that this was no time to discuss medical IDs. But she continued talking. I told her I was in a hurry and needed to go. She was undeterred. I finally hung up.

By this time the app had loaded, but now I needed to confirm it with my email. I also needed to give my credit card data. More time. When everything loaded, I learned that, in addition to paying an exorbitant sum to Wilkes-Barre, I was also paying Pango for the "convenience" of using their shitty system. One second cost me 64 cents. I stopped the session immediately.

I'd rather get a ticket.

At this point, I hastily made my way to the gym. Fortunately, there was no line at the ticket booth, and I asked for directions to the nearest rest room. I've noticed those are always located a long way from ticket booths.

The rest room was located in the gym, where the women were already playing. To get there, I had to wait for a break in the action so I could cross the court. I stood there and waited, as patiently as I could, while the refs suddenly decided to just let them play without blowing a whistle. Finally, a quarter ended and I marched across the gym, saw a sign directing me to the restrooms, and was in.

It was like heaven. The stalls were much larger than I've seen at other places, and there was plenty of toilet paper. I erupted like the Taal volcano, with just as many toxic fumes. But I felt great. At my age, a good dump is better than sex.

Just as I was finishing, the door opened, and in walked two people talking to each other.

They were women.

I was in the wrong frickin' rest room.

I sat in my stall, as quiet as I could be, until they were gone.

I was able to get out of there without getting arrested.

When I returned to my car after the games, I had no tickets either.