I decided to explore Highway 1 today.
As I was driving in a particularly desolate and empty portion of the stretch, rolling hills curving around me in every direction, I realized I really had to pee.
I saw a sign for a city. I drove up up up a very windy incline and got to the top of a mountain and then drove down down down it, seeing the town only as mere specks in the valley beyond.
I realized I wasn't going to make it so I turned around and wound back up the mountain. Pulling over twice to find a tree to squat near, I quickly realized that I was on a cliff and any tree I might find was growing directly up out of a dramatic incline.
As I eyed some of the sparse shrubbery near the roadside several cars rushed by, forcing me to admit I'd be seen, bare-assed, by motorists passing by.
So I kept driving. Quickly reaching a breaking point. As I sped through the valley I came upon several fields of agriculture. Then, as I turned a corner I spotted a field full of workers. Next to their vehicle, I saw it, a porta-potty. Like a beacon of hope.
I pulled over onto the gravel, bumped to a dusty stop, and turned off my car. Several of the workers stopped to look at me curiously.
This was about the time I froze.
What was I going to do? Wander out into the field and ask to use their bathroom? Should I just make a run for it and burst into the white rectangle?
I started panicking. What if they didn't speak English?
Precious minutes were ticking by, pressing into my bladder, as I scrambled to construct pitiful sentences from my four quarters of Spanish classes. These are what I dug up - covered in mud and mildew:
Yo necesito usar los banos por favor!
Necesito (hold crotch) muchas ahora!
You don't have to be a fucking genius to know that I turned my key in the ignition and sped away. I felt embarrassed, like they had read my mind and seen my abysmal attempt at Spanish, and were now snickering to each other, speaking fluently. It took me twenty minutes to finally find a bathroom (at a YMCA..wtf)
Buenos noches mi amigos?