Its a hard knock life!

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Internationally De-throned

While perusing through journal entries of my international excursions I was reminded of some of my less flattering moments. So often we abuse the phrase ‘what happens in (enter location here) stays in (enter location here)’ However, does it ever really? Everything I have ever done in Nevada has followed me home, as have other ghastly events which have happened on my meager meanderings. Thus, I believe I shall open my own bag and ‘spill the beans’ to borrow the phrase. Allow me to share a piece of my soul with you, my people, my audience.

The following is quite explicit and upon further reading you consent to assume no differing stance on our friendship, consider myself of no less stature, and take heed of the following: If I have ever or will ever date you, you must never take this into account prior to, during or after kissing me. After all, what happens in China stays in China?

It was a balmy evening, myself and some fellow English teachers decided to hit up a local establishment of consumption. We had been known to frequent this specific location; however, this particular end of day we decided to partake in slightly more than a mere sampling of cheesecake. After a few drinks and some dancing (may I point out there was no dance floor, however groove is in the heart, hence forth we took it to the café) I began to feel the urge to relieve my pressured loins. As I was slightly inebriated my balance was a speck off. If you are unaware of why this is verging on pessimistic, allow me to explain. Chinese facilities are extraordinarily different from those in North America. Not only are they filthy, they provide no toilet (or what we as Canadians have come to define as an acceptable excuse for such a throne) Rather than sitting, you squat into a hole, which has a spray guard similar to that of a urinal. Thus, the lack of balance was not in my favor for such an event. Thankfully, I was wearing a skirt which made the process a smidgen easier, and I was well acquainted with the Chinese style squat, as by this time I had been living in China for a lengthy period of time.
My less than sober self began the process of hiking up my skirt and squatting, I then realized that I had not, up until that moment started to urinate- although the floor was already soggy? I was not yet put off, that is until I took into account the fact I was sporting flip flops and had just approached the point comprehension - my feet were starting to feel damp.
The anxiety caused my loins to loosen and I myself began to add to the already large puddle. It was also at that moment (mid-stream) I began to topple, the steady tributary hit the splash guard of the squatter, ricocheted with festivity and spewed full force upon my countenance. Sadly the expression on my face consisted of an open mouth. As my nerves were filled with utter shock and dismay, my mouth began to fill with …well lets just say it wasn’t shock OR dismay.