Eclectic Ramblings From a Bike Riding, Sports Loving, Novel Writing Nerd.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Fan Prompts: My Life As A Truck Stop Bathroom

So a few days ago I started a writing prompt exercise with you guys. I'll be asking occasional questions and using your answers to prompt a short story. I'm looking for weird, fun, off the wall, interesting topics. 

The first question was: If you could set a story anywhere it would be_____________.

Jim Norman suggested a Truck Stop Bathroom. Well, here you go Jim.

Let me tell you, it ain't easy being a truck stop bathroom.  I've seen some things man.  The kind of stuff you just can't un-see.  And I'm not even talking about the hygiene issues that come with being a bathroom.  Sure, I've seen my share of last minute chimchanga accidents, or "I'm way too hung over to be long hauling today" vomit fests, or even the occasional weirdo who drops trou to his ankles at the urinal.  Every truck stop sees that stuff.

No, I'm talking about the really, crazy, "I need to call my mama cause I can't explain what I just saw and now nothing in life makes sens" kinda things.

There was the time the super fat guy, I'm talkin four bills fat, came out of the shower and realized he was alone.  He proceeded to go all Buffalo Bill on me and started dancing in front of my mirror.  I don't know how he found the damn thing to tuck it in.  I mean this dude was huge.  If I had hands or a mouth I would have called the cops 'cause I'm sure he was hiding a  skin suit and a basket of Lubriderm in the cab of his truck.

Or there was the time that couple snuck in at 2:00 in the morning, feelin all amorous.  Nothing against a little clandestine slap and tickle but you know, there are some people that you don't mind seeing nekkid and then there are those that just...well, the term pigs in heat comes to mind.  Lordy!

Oh yeah, there was the time that dog came in and started talking to me.  We had this crazy philosophical discussion about the merits of the Anarchist political movement.  I tell you by the time he left he had me firmly convinced that what we need is a stateless society based on non-hierarchal free associations.  No seriously, talking dog.  Right hand to God. No, it didn't have anything to do with the truckers smoking a bowl in the shower just before.  Nope.  Talking dog.  Swear...To...God.

Of course, I've seen some pretty cool stuff too.  I'll never forget Roger.  He was a drifter that showed up from time to time.  He'd hide from Mary the manager and sleep in the showers every once in a while.  Most of the truckers knew about him and helped him out when the could,  few bucks here, a sandwich there.  They'd even distract Mary so he could skedaddle when she heard he was around.  Well one night Jerry, one of the long haul guys for J.B. Hunt, stopped in looking for Roger.  See Jerry'd won a truckload of money in the lottery and when he found Roger he showed him a bag full of cash.  He told Roger the money was his as long as he got cleaned up, even offered to pay for rehab.  Soon as Roger stopped cryin they walked out together.  I haven't seen Roger since but last I heard he was sober two years and holding down a job for the trucking company Jerry started.

Yeah, I've seen some things.  There's days where I wish I had, you know, legs or a mouth (that truckstop pizza smells so damn good) but being a truck stop bathroom ain't all that bad.  Never a dull moment, you know.

 I mean, it could be worse.  I could have been a Port-A-John.  Those guys really got a shit deal

(See what I did there?)


  1. Love it. Why does my internal monologue sorta sound like Sam Eliott when I read this?

    1. Because everything is better when narrated by Sam Elliott!