Monday, January 30, 2006

"Forty-Two Ounces": a moistly-fictional work by Dave Morris*

"I've really got to use the restroom." Mike was in the back seat, fighting an urge that was fostered by the consumption of multiple beers and a long road trip.

Keith checked his odometer, it was still a few miles to an exit with a restroom. "Hang on, we'll be there in a few minutes."

The ultimate destination for today would be the Huzzah River. The three day itinerary included navigating vessels along the length of the watercourse to retrieve high resolution pictures for their organization's website.

An entire convoy of vehicles was moving west on I-44, and in the front car, Mike's urgency increased. "I really need to stop to use the restroom."

"Almost there, just a couple of more minutes." Keith was in the seat directly in front of Mike, unable to see the look of necessity on his face. The scheduled arrival time was inflexible; their mission was tightly scripted and largely shrouded in secrecy. An unplanned stop would be impossible.

A few more minutes passed, and when Mike spoke again, it wasn't to remind Keith of the urgent need to stop - it was to summon the help of Bill. "Here, take this and dump it out the window."

From the shotgun seat, Bill reached behind him and grabbed the object without thinking. It was a Miller Lite can, but the surface was uncannily warm. "Why are we dumping out perfectly good..." His words trailed off, as he realized what was inside the aluminum container.

Mike wasn't able to wait until the scheduled stop, and had begun gingerly filling up the same cans he had emptied only minutes before.

Bill blindly groped for the button to lower the window, the warm can starting a reaction in his stomach that was quickly reaching an urgent level. As the window opened, his diaphragm began convulsing, his throat straining to contain it's contents. He began emptying the contents of the can out the window, which predictably, the wind began blowing back onto his arm and into the vehicle.

Meantime, Mike had filled another can and passed it to Bill, who continued emptying frantically, while dry-heaving wildly. He dug in the floorboard for a towel to dry his arm, while the other cars in the convoy turned on their windshield wipers to clear the unwelcome moisture.

"Bill, here's another one," Mike blurted, topping off the third vessel of waste. So far, 36 ounces had been expelled sloppily from the car window, onto the console, and onto Bill.

And Mike wasn't finished.

Ninety seconds later, Bill announced the final total. "Forty-two ounces." He smirked, as the convoy rolled ironically to a stop at the rest area, just as he poured the last of the urine onto the roadway.

Mike smiled and farted.



---

* Some of this story is true. Okay, most of it. Okay, okay... all of it. But I wasn't involved. I wasn't even in the convoy.

18 comments:

Spinning Girl said...

That is hawt.

Chris Johnson said...

That is so freakin funny! Can't wait until Mike reads this!!

Anonymous said...

something very similar happened to me. Two friends and I were on a roadtrip from a small TX panhandle town to Tulsa OK. The girl in the back seat drank beer steadily the whole trip. By the time we got to Tulsa she was begging the driver to find a restroom but of course we arrived in Tulsa during rush hour...so as we're sitting still surrounded by cars she politely takes her pants down and squats over an empty to-go cup, then opens the back door and throws it out. It's much easier for a guy to do than it is for a gal.

paula said...

Dave, you've done it again. You have successfully recreated the story to a T. My husband will love you for that. Just wait until this year, when it will be your turn to fill up the cans on the 2 hour drive to Steelville.

~The Goofy Ass Chick said...

Dave I must admit, when I read the title I thought you had intentionally inserted the word "moist" just to mess with me. But as I read further I started laughing uncontrollably. Your ability to portray this story is inpecable. I could almost smell the piss. Now I have a sudden urge to put on my hand sanitizer. ;-)

CP said...

Reminds me of the time I...when I...and um...

no. Won't go there.

CP.

CP said...

Reminds me of the time I...when I...and um...

no. Won't go there.

CP.

Jasmine said...

Very good! haha
Jasmine

OldHorsetailSnake said...

You're not tricking me. So, in the story, were you Bill, or Mike?

Diana said...

That was perfect!!!

Lee Ann said...

Dave, I have been in a situation feeling like Mike...but a can wouldn't have helped, due to girl plumbing being a bit different! haha

Kylee said...

Thats good.
I had a great aunt that traveled with a coffee can so that when her and her husband were on a drive they would not have to stop. She was not a small woman..we still wonder how she used it..but she did. She even had one by her bed so she would not have to walk the the bathroom at night...she said it was too cold.

Heidi said...

Holy shit that is hilarious! Giving a whole new meaning to punding a forty...

Bob2837465 said...

ROTFLMAO!!!!!!!

Love it! Great retelling. You could probably even sell this as a non-fiction memoir, except it isn't your memory... Although, you could remember the time when you heard the story in Bill's garage.

I'm telling you - you're missing out on the "Drunkfest" float trip!

Kerouaced said...

Empty water bottles work much better and you don't have the fear of an aluminum cut...ouch!

Chris Cope said...

What? Mike's too good to piss out the window like the rest of us?

Lightning Bug's Butt said...

Any tits in the next installment?

Ari said...

Ewwwwww!!! At least my emergency toilet had a screw lid. :)

And I didn't hand it to someone like they were a Primacare lab technician or something...