The Throne In The Sky
It’s Saturday morning once again and what important task have you saved up for and thought about all week? <Thinking about what Dana is going to write about this week?! – Stick> No not that, think deeper to those private thoughts you think no one else knows about and that which you wouldn’t admit to anyone if asked. Yep, you’re getting it now.. How do I know? Come on, do you think you’re the only one who looks forward to the one day of the week where a nice relaxing non-hurried high quality dump is possible? You’ve been holding it for days now and you know it. Set yourself free and just admit that you’ve been walking around since at least late Thursday afternoon with your cheeks clinched and passing smelly ones just so you could be certain you’d have a properly sized load ready for that sacred Saturday ritual when everyone else leaves the house and you lock yourself in the head with that special magazine you picked up earlier in the week just for this event.. and perhaps in preparation you’ve stripped naked and got all your shower stuff ready for the shower you know you’ll need when finished.. and you carefully take your seat on the throne being careful to pull your cheeks apart to reduce output friction and residue, turn to that great review of the latest Ferrari and by now you can feel it building. You try to slow it down so the moment can last as long as possible by thinking about something else, something grossly unpleasant, maybe turning to another page and.. oh crap.. there’s a picture of Hillary Clinton and that finalizes the moment and things are moving and there’s no stopping it now!
With the picture of the junior senator from New York frozen on your lap the few days of toxic waste runs through you with a velocity only equaled by the Tokyo to Kyoto bullet train a huge amount of “SHIT” passes by your cheeks lightly scorching the flesh and splashes down in your toilet bowl like a space capsule in the Atlantic ocean.. SPLASH!!! With the speed of a seasoned martial artist you reach for the flush handle and yank it for dear life and are rewarded with the WHOOOOSHHHH of the pressurized assist but not before.. sniff sniff .. ya, no way to escape it. You can’t escape the smell, just as you’re free to look back at Hillary still laying there on your lap with the smug smile on her face and you wonder for a moment if that smell is her politics or… ok, we know it was you. A great experience right? A quality dump is even better than a well saved pee and only surpassed in pleasure by a quality orgasm. It’s Saturday morning in Bangkok folks!
You’re probably asking yourself how this subject came up? Fair enough. Why would a normally healthy and beautiful mind turn from the subjects of interest and beauty to Hillary Clinton and copious amounts of feces? My bathroom window. WTF? Yep, my bathroom window. The only way to make you understand where I’m coming from is to just tell you about it. I just came from the shower where standing naked (in all my awesome glory) under the cool water that comes from my Waterpik “summer shower” showerhead where I was rubbing Irish Spring soap (with scrubbing additives) all over my body, singing off key to Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman”, and right about then was when I had the revelation. “Let’s talk about taking a dump!” What triggered my revelation? I was looking out the windows which I’d opened all the way so in effect there wasn’t anything between me and a wonderful view of downtown Bangkok. Try and put yourself in this position (in your own shower you perverts!). It’s almost like you’re floating above the city with the ability to see everything while refreshing water rinses you clean. It just feels good. The truth is however, that I didn’t think I could pull off making everyone visualize taking a shower.. not that exciting. But I was pretty sure we could all relate to the great feeling of a long saved dump and there was this one special experience I have to share to add to everything else.
I served a tour in San Diego California back in the 80’s. What a great place it was back then! I was assigned to one of those mostly secret research centers that are always changing their names along with who funds them and at the time this place was called NOSC (Naval Oceans Systems Center) PACFLT (Pacific Fleet). This was a beautiful campus located on the cliffs of Point Loma overlooking the North Island sub base and was only accessible by two entrances complete with civilian armed guards with MP5’s. I can’t tell you what I was doing there, but I can tell you we had huge water tanks with dolphins and whales and “accessories” and trainers and lots of high tech “stuff” which was being developed and prototyped with hopes that it would be found useful and someday manufactured and deployed to the general fleet. If not, perhaps limited numbers of these toys would find their way into the hands of some special force types for some real live “testing.” With the trees and gardens and no uniform policy this was truly like a high tech campus area with all the creature comforts you’d expect at the likes of MIT. If you knew where I came from the previous years you’d realize just how special this place appeared to me.
What does this place have to do with taking a dump? Ok, picture this. You’re on a big grey ship underway for months at a time and every time you felt the urge you’d have to perch your butt on one of the many rather plain thrones placed perhaps 20-30 in a row with guys sitting on thrones next to you close enough to rub shoulders while you looked straight ahead hoping the noise you were making was of a lesser volume than the guy sitting next to you and that no one would look when it was time to wipe your ass and you were checking if another lap was necessary. Or better yet, you’re out in the jungle or desert nice and comfy in your little ‘hide’ and you’ve gotta take a dump but the number one rule of covert ops (though shall leave no footprints (or feces) behind) prompts you to take out a ziplock bag and hold it in place as you fill it, seal it, and stuff it back in your ruck next to your food rations. Can you tell I was “dump deprived?” Can you now start to understand how I might start to appreciate everyday things most of you take for granted? Good.
With all that said NOSC has some awesomely ritzy thrones! The stalls where a good 4×8 feet with a toilet raised far enough off the ground where I didn’t need to bend the knees on my 6 foot tall body to take my seat. Once seated the wall you were facing wasn’t a real wall. Instead it was a floor to ceiling glass wall that was OVERHANGING the Point Loma cliff so it felt like you were hanging in mid-air, high up, over the North Island sub base. This was in my opinion the most beautiful viewpoint in all of Southern California and IT WAS A TOILET STALL!!! Can you see the irony? Can you see why I thought of this place when I was standing in my shower overlooking Bangkok? The similarities are stunning! I remember always making a point to grab a newspaper or magazine and finding some excuse to visit the head (in the Navy we call restrooms “heads”) every day that I worked there, often I’d combine my throne time with my lunch break but I stopped short of bringing my lunch in with me. Don’t get me wrong, I think it would be a beautiful place to picnic, however I could never get past that whole input/output at the same time thing..
If I’m ever filthy rich and build my home in the sky you can bet it’s going to have a throne built in the best location and that I’m going to enjoy it every day of the week and just not Saturdays..
Until next time…
There have been a few submissions over the years about taking a dump. I have never seen the attraction to write about such a subject myself…