When You Gotta Go, Go!
“Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day.” Harry S. Truman, 33rd President of the United States
***
Many years ago, I decided to get out of Bangkok for a couple of days of rest and relaxation in Kanchanaburi. The city is the home of the Bridge Over the River Kwai, made famous in the movie and novel of the same name. The bridge is the start of the Death Railway that leads to Burma (formerly Myanmar). Constructed during World War II by POWs and slave laborers, thousands lost their lives in the process. The area is now home to a thriving backpacker community and is a huge tourist attraction.
My funds were limited so I checked in to The Jolly Frog, a cheap guesthouse popular with the backpacker crowd. It was unusual for me to stay at a place like this but I promised my wife I would spend wisely and would forego a four or five-star hotel. The finest room at The Jolly Frog was just 290 baht ($9.50), so I went ahead and splurged. The location was decent, just off the main road, and if you sat on one of the numerous lawn chairs or hammocks, the view of the river attractive. Not a bad deal and certainly good enough for a night or two.
The guesthouse was set in between the river and the main road in town rooms formed a …show more content…
Although the situation grew more pressing with every passing second. I was certain I would make it back and avoid an accident. Halfway back to the guesthouse though, my stomach was assailed by painful cramps that nearly brought me to my knees. I stopped on the side of the road and fought a life and death battle against the urge to purge. Sweat poured from every pore and my stomach lurched violently. Now I was positive I was not right. I clenched my butt cheeks together, tightened my sphincter and walked as fast as possible. I looked like a speed walker with a telephone pole jammed up his rear. I no longer cared about how I looked though; I needed relief and needed it
“Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day.” Harry S. Truman, 33rd President of the United States
***
Many years ago, I decided to get out of Bangkok for a couple of days of rest and relaxation in Kanchanaburi. The city is the home of the Bridge Over the River Kwai, made famous in the movie and novel of the same name. The bridge is the start of the Death Railway that leads to Burma (formerly Myanmar). Constructed during World War II by POWs and slave laborers, thousands lost their lives in the process. The area is now home to a thriving backpacker community and is a huge tourist attraction.
My funds were limited so I checked in to The Jolly Frog, a cheap guesthouse popular with the backpacker crowd. It was unusual for me to stay at a place like this but I promised my wife I would spend wisely and would forego a four or five-star hotel. The finest room at The Jolly Frog was just 290 baht ($9.50), so I went ahead and splurged. The location was decent, just off the main road, and if you sat on one of the numerous lawn chairs or hammocks, the view of the river attractive. Not a bad deal and certainly good enough for a night or two.
The guesthouse was set in between the river and the main road in town rooms formed a …show more content…
Although the situation grew more pressing with every passing second. I was certain I would make it back and avoid an accident. Halfway back to the guesthouse though, my stomach was assailed by painful cramps that nearly brought me to my knees. I stopped on the side of the road and fought a life and death battle against the urge to purge. Sweat poured from every pore and my stomach lurched violently. Now I was positive I was not right. I clenched my butt cheeks together, tightened my sphincter and walked as fast as possible. I looked like a speed walker with a telephone pole jammed up his rear. I no longer cared about how I looked though; I needed relief and needed it