On Monday morning I drove two hours down to Sydney, thinking my man bladder could cope. I was wrong. By the time I hit
I haven’t wet my pants for decades, and wondered what it was going to feel like. Flicking the radio off I crouched, gasped, breathing like a mofo, over the steering wheel. Suddenly, some public toilets appeared before me like a beacon of Hope. THANK YOU GOD. Miraculously swinging my car into the car park, getting out and staggering like I was walking over hot coals, not caring who saw. Didn’t even lock my car.
When I finally let go of that wee?
Not long into it, a man shouted into the women’s toilets. "Anybody in here?"
“Um, yeah.” He was probably a cleaner. He was definitely in for a long wait. Kingdoms were lost and won in the time it took for me to complete that wee. I remember being a young girl, listening to older ladies do the longest wees and I found it so repulsive.
I am a repulsive older lady. When I finally finished, I came out of the stall and watched in the mirror as I braced myself - for the tyre iron to belt me in the face when “the cleaner” stole my purse.
It didn’t happen! I didn’t piss my pants! Best day ever already.
There was a bum sitting on a bench right next to my car. I walked past, looked at him drinking his Riesling straight from the bottle. I could tell he wanted to say something to me so I kind of stood there, waiting.
“You …” he lolled his head around, shut one eye, then finished. “You are a fucking SLUT!”
Except he didn’t just say SLUT, he said SEEELUT for added effect.
I thought it was the funniest thing. He continued.
“With yer fucken four wheel drive and yer fucken BABEEEEE in it. Fucking. Seeelut.”
I said mate, I don’t have a baby in my car! How are you doin’today, anyway?”
Instantly he changed, and laughed, his face crinkled into a smile. “Hahahaha oh love! I dunno how I’m gonna get home!” I said mate – where do you live? He laughed and pointed a short distance away.
“Just over there! AHAHAHA!!”
We laughed together. It was Rosebay – something told me he hasn’t shared a laugh with too many people today. He told me he was from
Alice Springs. I said I’d never been there, but I’ve heard it’s amazing. He was so drunk he kept talking over me, but desperate for me to talk to him at the same time. I told him it was a beautiful day. I told him – “Mate! You’ve got it bloody good, sittin’ in the sun with your radio, watching the day!”
He looked up at me, fair square in the eyes. “Oh sweetheart. I’m FUCKED.”
I leant over close to him. I had so much compassion – I know exactly where he is, in that Lost and Hopeless place. I spoke directly from my Spirit to his Spirit. “Mate – we’re all fucked!”
And we had the last laugh, together, standing in the ritzy park next to the fancy boats. The bemused hoity toity businessmen and the hot mums with babies steering WAY clear of us.
I finally got to my sister Linda’s house in Bondi, regaling her with stories of wee and alcoholics and Hope. I’ve thought about that beautiful bum ever since.
One day, I hope we all can see that there is no us and them. There is only us.
A continued big fat thank you for the overwhelming response to the Every Little Thing post. It was even featured on the awesome Schmutzie's Five Star Friday site. Sadly, Blogger has been down for over a day - preventing new comments, and losing a large chunk of the comments already there. Vee is watching and reading with amazement, every single comment that comes in. Me too. And Alexandra. Cancer touches a lot of people, you know? Sucks, man.