A public, mobile bathroom. Normally, these are big and blue, and placed by the dozen in areas that don't normally have bathrooms, but for some reason or another need them, such as an outdoor music fest in the park. They smell rancid, and you'd have to have to go REALLY bad to acutally go into one and use it. They never have toilet paper, and they have no lights inside them, so if it is night-time, you're pretty much screwed. Beneath the toilet seat there is a 2 foot drop into a mess of blue liquid, which is supposed to be sanitary. How can a liquid of any kind, even if it blue, stay sanitary when there is fecal matter and urine suspended in it?

If you were to ask me, port-a-john’s have a pretty bad reputation. Sure they stink to high heaven but what the hell else would you expect, a meadow? If you have to go bad enough, I don’t know of anybody who would turn down the opportunity to use one. The only other option I can think of is to soil yourself and that really isn’t an option at all.

Picture this. There you are, stuck at your kid's soccer game or attending an outdoor concert or some other large event when all of sudden you feel the urge to go. Maybe it’s a bit chilly or maybe you’ve consumed a bit too much of your beverage of choice but what starts out innocently enough could soon end in disaster. As time goes by the urge to heed nature’s calling seems to get stronger and stronger. As each minute passes you realize that it won’t be long before you either burst at the seams or have to head for the exits. The space you’re in is too wide open for you to do your business in public and there are no woods about. The risk of conducting your business in public and being arrrested in front of such a large crowd really isn’t an option. As time seems to slow down and the space between the tick and the tock seems to take forever, you find that whatever it is that you’re supposed to be concentrating on is now the furthest thing from your mind.

Your kid just scored a goal?

“Great, I gotta piss!”

The band is about to play your favorite song?

“Great, I gotta take a dump the size of Texas.”

If you’re lucky you might see what looks like a line of soldiers off in the distance. You realize that these are your friends and in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that the relief you seek is within walking distance and that the lines that greet you when you get there won’t be too long. These soldiers stand at attention, waiting to do their duty and to gladly accept whatever you can throw at them.

As the line you’re in moves closer and closer you find your self doing a little dance. You silently implore each occupant before you to please hurry up and when they emerge with what looks like a look of satisfaction on their face you thank the stars above that you are a bit closer to your goal. It’s often been said that paradise comes in many forms but when it finally is your turn, you offer up a silent thanks to the gods that relief is only a moment or two away.

You slide your way into what can only be desribed as a small closet. You flick the knob on the door to indicate that the receptacle is “In Use” in order to ward off any intruders and to allow yourself a bit of much needed privacy. Yes, the smell is bad but in the back of your head you think to yourself that you won’t be there all that long and that the ensuing gratitude you feel will more than compensate for the assualt on your olfactory senses.

You do your business and bid a hasty exit. You make your way back to whence you came and try to enjoy what’s left of the event. After maybe ten or fifiteen minutes you feel a familiar feeling and you realize the urge to go is once again upon you. The seal has been broken and there’s no turning back.

You glance whistfully in their direction. You have your marching orders and they have theirs.

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