It’s the morning we have to leave, and we’re walking around in the streets of Wroclaw, swearing about the drizzling rain and worrying about how long we have before our train leaves. I’m clutching my stomach because my bowels feel like someone just set off a small nuclear bomb down there. I need to find a bathroom in the next five minutes or I’m finished.
Jaro Jaro Jaro we need to find a toilet dude really I mean really first place you see lets go in ok?
He’s staring at me like I’m insane and I might as well have been at that point. I’m looking around wildly for the Holiday Inn that saved us the first time, but it’s nowhere to be found. Uuuuugggghhhh.
The train station comes into view, so at least we have that going for us. Earlier, we had no idea how to get back to the station, so we just started walking up a main road that looked like the road we had begun walking down the first night. As luck would have it, it was, but I was much more worried about the fact I didn’t have an extra pair of jeans to change into if things got much worse.
On the corner beside the station, is a small bar. There! I’m saying, and Jaro is already walking in, with me hobbling in behind him.
Ok, we have to order something first. Damnit. Uh, two beers please, I’m saying, ignoring the clock on the wall that says its 10 in the morning. Jaro slips into the bathroom first, for some unknown reason, and I sit at the table with two beers in front of me, none of which look appetizing. I try to think about something else besides my bowels, and finally notice the bar around me. It’s a small room, dirty, with one wall filled with slot machines, and two or three patrons, taking drags of hand rolled cigarettes and sipping their beers. All of them are staring unnaturally at me.
I shift in my seat, thoroughly disturbed by the situation around me, and inside me.
Jaro sits down beside me. He’s smiling at me. Uh oh. Something’s up.
You’re not going to be happy.
What? Why? Is there no toilet paper?
Just trust me.
Jaro’s ambiguity would usually arouse my curiosity, but I am way too mentally and physically fucked up at the moment to wonder what he is talking about.
I’ll be right back, I’m saying, approaching the bathroom door, and passing the bar, I notice the bartender watching me. Her eyes follow me all the way to the door. She looks sixty but is probably thirty-five.
I open the door, and immediately understand Jaro’s smile.
There’s no toilet seat.
I ponder my situation for about 5 seconds, and close the door behind me. I remember my first encounter with a Bosnian toilet, where it was just a hole in the ground and you had to squat and pray you didn't fall in. This was the same situation, wrapped in a deceiving Westernized package. Damnit.
Five minutes later I walk out, and Jaro hasn’t touched his beer.
This place is weird, he’s telling me.
No shit? Really?
I’m just shaking my head and trying to forget the awkward situation of the last five minutes.
Let’s drink these and get the fuck out of here.
Jaro Jaro Jaro we need to find a toilet dude really I mean really first place you see lets go in ok?
He’s staring at me like I’m insane and I might as well have been at that point. I’m looking around wildly for the Holiday Inn that saved us the first time, but it’s nowhere to be found. Uuuuugggghhhh.
The train station comes into view, so at least we have that going for us. Earlier, we had no idea how to get back to the station, so we just started walking up a main road that looked like the road we had begun walking down the first night. As luck would have it, it was, but I was much more worried about the fact I didn’t have an extra pair of jeans to change into if things got much worse.
On the corner beside the station, is a small bar. There! I’m saying, and Jaro is already walking in, with me hobbling in behind him.
Ok, we have to order something first. Damnit. Uh, two beers please, I’m saying, ignoring the clock on the wall that says its 10 in the morning. Jaro slips into the bathroom first, for some unknown reason, and I sit at the table with two beers in front of me, none of which look appetizing. I try to think about something else besides my bowels, and finally notice the bar around me. It’s a small room, dirty, with one wall filled with slot machines, and two or three patrons, taking drags of hand rolled cigarettes and sipping their beers. All of them are staring unnaturally at me.
I shift in my seat, thoroughly disturbed by the situation around me, and inside me.
Jaro sits down beside me. He’s smiling at me. Uh oh. Something’s up.
You’re not going to be happy.
What? Why? Is there no toilet paper?
Just trust me.
Jaro’s ambiguity would usually arouse my curiosity, but I am way too mentally and physically fucked up at the moment to wonder what he is talking about.
I’ll be right back, I’m saying, approaching the bathroom door, and passing the bar, I notice the bartender watching me. Her eyes follow me all the way to the door. She looks sixty but is probably thirty-five.
I open the door, and immediately understand Jaro’s smile.
There’s no toilet seat.
I ponder my situation for about 5 seconds, and close the door behind me. I remember my first encounter with a Bosnian toilet, where it was just a hole in the ground and you had to squat and pray you didn't fall in. This was the same situation, wrapped in a deceiving Westernized package. Damnit.
Five minutes later I walk out, and Jaro hasn’t touched his beer.
This place is weird, he’s telling me.
No shit? Really?
I’m just shaking my head and trying to forget the awkward situation of the last five minutes.
Let’s drink these and get the fuck out of here.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment