My trip to Europe was going well up until I arrived at the coastal city of Biarritz, France. My stomach ached for most of the train ride and it wasn't until I was no where near a toilet that I had to relieve my colon of the black snake moan that was slivering around inside. The tightly squeezed aperture that was my butt hole stung several times before I found a nice parking lot to let the snake out for some air. After a long sleepless night filled with frequent parking lot visits my train had arrived to take us on a long journey to Barcelona, Spain.
We had to take a detour from Biarritz up to Paris and then back down to Toulouse before we could board one more train to Latour de Carol. The last thing I wanted to do was keep traveling after several painful train rides. It was my fault though, I ignorantly slurped laxatives and popped Imodium A.D. at the same time. I really had no choice so I trooped on with the group and carried a burning in my anus and desire for a nice hotel room with a toilet. And not the typical non-American version of a toilet that ranges from hole in the ground to metal tin. Iyearned for a proper toilet that would act as the perfect venue to battle my demons. Before my dreams could come true, I had to board a toilet-less bus to get to our final destination.
Usually, a toilet free bus is the way to travel, however, given the condition of my recent bowel movements, a toilet-less bus was a disastrous situation for me to be in. I had almost completely exhausted my sphincter over the last 48 hours and wasn't sure if I could prevent myself from a classic slip up. I boarded the bus with a slight hesitation, but didn't really have much of a choice. The desolate train station that borders Northern Spain had no lodging facilities near by and would be closing soon.
The bus zoomed out of the parking lot onto a narrow road carved into the side of a mountain. Usually I would enjoy the beautiful sights of the mountain range during the ride, but my aching stomach was too much of a distraction. I had to use my ninja focus to keep my cheeks clenched around every tight corner. I sat nervously in the back while sweat dripped down my forehead. The perspiration was not so much due to the erratic driving, but rather, because I did not want to shit my pants.
The bus made a stop in a city where I was too distracted to take note of the name. Federal officials boarded the bus. I had to present my passport. I hoped they would be a bit more efficient than most of the border patrol that I had come across on my journey, but like any government paid employee they were in no hurry.
Finally we were back on the road with a bus driver who could have been mistaken as Sandra Bullock fromSpeed jamming at 55 plus miles per hour down the sloped road. This guy had no regard for the comfort of the passengers. He hugged every curve in the road. With every stomp on the gas pedal came an abrupt slam on the brakes keeping the passengers bobbing back and forth. I wasn't concerned with living or dying as much as I was worried about my unpredictable bowel movements, but one passenger caught my eye. Noley Bear was clenching to the seat in front of him with his head down and his eyes closed. All I could think of was how much of a pussy he was. My fearful thoughts of Hershey squirts were briefly evaded with this observation and I was thankful for having such a mama's boy in the seat next to mine.
The bus ride came to an end at another train station and my underwear was surprisingly still dry. We had to take one more ride on an overground train to conclude our two day trek. I knew I had to hang on by a thread for just a little longer for my stinging red butt hole would be home free. I closed my eyes the whole way to the city and when we arrived, we hailed a cab and took it to the nearest hotel. I gladly paid a smidgen more than I normally would for a room so I could finally have use of a clean restroom and some much needed rest.
Fire works banged loudly out side and I sat on the porcelain pedestal that I was blessed to have use of. The Spaniards celebrated noisily in the streets of Barcelona for El Dia De San Juan, but I quietly imagined from the restroom that they were celebrating my relief.
