Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Puttin' On The Ritz

My friend Gary mentioned some unmentionables over on his blog. His unmentionables? Sewage. Yuck.

He wanted everyone to share some unmentionable stories. Now, by mentioning them they lose their unmentionable magic, but that's okay. My story is something I've mentioned before, I'm mentioning now and I'll surely mention again.

I've peed in a Ritz Carlton! Yeah, some of you reading may have stayed at a Ritz Carlton.
Well, la de da!
I was going to school down in New Orleans, it was Mardi Gras, I was drunk. I wasn't just regular drunk, I was Mardi Gras drunk. I was carrying a bottle of rum around with me and mixing myself drinks in the cups that were being thrown out at the parade. I'd just take that cup into Krystal Burger, partially fill it with soda, pour in some rum and I was good to go. (Side note: Showing your boobs to get beads is for amateurs. If you go to a parade, beads are thrown. Along with cups. Of course if you want to show your boobs have at it. It's Mardi Gras, they're everywhere.)

You would think this special Mardi Gras drunk would cause me to lose some inhibitions, pee in a porta potty. You're wrong. My special drunk led me to believe that I should be peeing somewhere nice. I should be peeing in a Ritz Carlton. That was my mission. Some of the members of our party did not choose to accept this. They were on their own. My dorm neighbor Jason was in, his girlfriend said she would wait street level with my friend. I guess they didn't have to pee. Onward and upward. We were going to pee at the Ritz Carlton! He was (and I would venture to guess still is) Asian and he was allergic to alcohol. So, he was special drunk too.

Before we get to the door, I'm giving him a booze fueled pep-talk. I'm telling him that we just need to act like we belong. We need to hold our heads up high and play it cool. Our drunkenness will not  be a problem because everyone is drunk. Just walk with purpose and no one will question us.

We were immediately asked if we were staying there. "Of course we are. We're in room 715*." I said, WITH PURPOSE. They bought it! We were directed to the elevators and given instructions. To get to our room, that room I just made up, we had to take 2  elevators. Yeah, we can remember that and do that. We are totally capable people and we can remember where to turn and all these elaborate instructions. Of course we can. We're the kind of people that stay at the Ritz Carlton, so obviously we can manage their hoity toity elevator system.

All went fine in the first elevator. Perfect. Everyone was quiet. We were quiet and we were getting closer and closer to being able to pee. We make our turn and head to the second elevator. Now, I can't explain to you why we insisted on heading in the direction of our made up room, but we did. The second elevator didn't go as smoothly as the first. An Australian man, an actual guest of the hotel, said to his friend, "They just let anyone in this place."

Fear washed over me. Our jig was up. This Australian is going to rat us out and something awful will happen. We'll get thrown in jail for urinating beyond our means. I kept focusing on peeing. Ignore this man! You hold your head up high! You've gotten this far.

We did it! We made it to the bathroom. I had the best pee of my life! I went to go wash my hands. Guess what I dried my hands with. Done guessing? ACTUAL TOWELS! No blow dryers, paper towels. No, sir. This was the Ritz Carlton! They wouldn't stand for such things. Not only were the towels soft, but they were also offered up in varying sizes. Wow. This is living. I basked in the glory of the ladies room a bit and met Jason back in the hallway to make our journey back downstairs.

The entire ride down we couldn't talk about what just happened. That was difficult. I was so happy! I wanted to shout it from the rooftops! I PEED AT A RITZ CARLTON! Jason's lady and my roomie seemed really proud of us when we returned and told them we were successful. (They may have been a bit drunk too.)

The entire thing felt like it took an eternity. So stressful! I wasn't made for a life of crime. I was made for using actual toilets though. Porta potties are scary.

*This is a made up number. I do not recall the actual fake number.

6 comments:

Gary's third pottery blog said...

REAL towels? I wonder if its just you using them that one time or if zillions of drunk Ritz visitors are also drying their germy hands on them...
you are a brave soul and bathroom explorer!

miss.e.motional said...

Love!

Knight said...

At first I read that you peed ON the Ritz Carlton and I imagined a story of peeing on the building. I'm pretty sure I've done that.

Peter in Belgium said...

We all admire your courage here in Belgium.

Actually, we love peeing:
we have a statue in Brussels that just does that.

Reverend Awesome said...

Im a huge fan of peeing. Peeing in style was just the icing on the urinal cake.

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