The Festival Poo
Talk about pooping at music festivals has come up a lot this past week. I guess it’s getting to be that time of year. One of my favorite clients just returned from the Envision Festival in Costa Rica. I’d like to think I can hang with dirty hippies, but everything about this festival looks like sheer smelly torture. At least 100 festival-goers left with a souvenir called E. Coli. So needless to say, the bathroom situation was dire. I imagine the attendees of this festival believe in a goods-exchange economy, where only goods or services are exchanged rather than money. So what does the dude cleaning the Porta-John get? I suppose…E.Coli….and a hug?
So what is a girl to do when you can’t stop peeing out of your ass while sharing a tent constructed over wet soil. My first suggestion is to never put yourself in this shitty situation, but should you find yourself making bad decisions, carry a bottle of activated charcoal with you and some bread (but don’t get pissed when you find your tent-mate eating your bread sprinkled with some hallucinogenics). Also, get a colonic before leaving for your trip. My friend did as such and only got mildly sick compared to her friends. She got another colonic upon her return to get rid of whatever bug was still lurking in her system and left feeling brand new.
The truth is no one (including myself) wants to take a shit in a Porta John. Faced with a Porta John as my only option, I opt out. There’s something unappealing about dropping my lifestyle evidence on top of a collection of shit slowly fossilizing in a solution of blue chemicals. And there’s always the fear of being flipped over while trapped inside. That, my friend, has happened to someone of two degrees separation at a music festival where there were at least 100 Porta Johns, so by no means is this scenario an impossibility.
I’d rather dig a hole and cover my tracks…