Californian's Don't Need to Pee

Recently, the Black Magic Woman and I packed up the cast members and headed across the desert to the Mouse's House. The trip was outstanding, thanks in most part to St. Rosemarie for lending us the time share. But that is beside the point, or in this case, the post. I wanted to bring your attention to a little known fact about Californians: it appears they never have to pee.

"Hello, I am Arnold Schwarzenegger and let me be zee first to velcome you to de grand state of California, vhere ve do not need to pee. Because ve have no need to pee, I have removed every toilet from vithin 175 miles of any freevay outside of Los Angeles."

Well that's just great, however, in Arizona, "ve" have to pee like every 20 minutes. This created a problem when travelling with four females from the Grand Canyon State. At one point on our way home, we were somewhere just past Riverside, when Daughter Who is Smarter Than I said, "Dad, I need a toilet." 

"But, honey," I reply, "We are in California. You know that there are no toilets anywhere near this freeway. Why didn't you go four hours ago before we left the hotel?" I get the expected, "Are you seriously that stupid?" look from the back seat. 

Then Daughter Who is Still in Diapers says, "Daeey, I nee toyett too."

"No, you are still in diapers. You don't need a toilet." I remind her. "Just go pee pee in your diaper and we will change it as soon as we can."

"No I nin't go pee pee in my diaper animore!" she furiously yells from the back of the minivan. 

"It has been quite a while since we stopped," the Black Magic Woman chimes in. 


"Do you have to pee too?" I ask Daughter Who Misses Her Cats. 

"Yea, and poo."

That settles it. I get off at the next somewhat-civilized looking exit and begin to use all of the common sense I have for restroom hunting. First I enter a residential-type area, thinking that these people have to eat. There will be a fast food joint or a grocery store around. Nope. Then I make my way downtown toward the industrial side. Nothing. Finally, while passing a greenbelt, Magic says "The door on that building over there says 'Women'." I make a sharp right and pull over. The girls get out and use the bathroom which Black Magic describes as having a hole and a handle, the latter apparently just for decoration.  

As everyone gets buckled and Still in Diapers gets changed, I realize that it is quite possible that we are in Mexico somewhere. It's getting dark and there is Mariachi playing in the background. I set off to find the freeway, making a mental note that flying may be a good idea next time. 

Arnold, if you find your way to this here blog: Seriously man, I've seen The Terminator and assume you have a modulator or something that you hook up with to get rid of waste, but the rest of us Sarah Conner types need toilets.  


Heather December 11, 2008 at 6:15 PM  

You should seriously consider traveling up here to Amish country...there is a bush, tree or out house nearly every 50 feet!

Dixie's Whimsey December 12, 2008 at 7:08 AM  

We're driving to California next August for my nephew's wedding... thanks for the warning... we'll stock up on "Depends" and maybe even borrow the portable-potty from my brother-in-law's deer camp!

ahhh Progress!

Heinous December 12, 2008 at 8:02 AM  

That's hilarious. I wonder if it's a skill they teach in CA? We could use it since here in PA we usually slap rest stops every 30 miles.

Last Place Finisher December 12, 2008 at 8:37 AM  

Sadly enough in 2006 a California State Appeals court ruled that it was illegal to pee in public even if there is no specific law on the books prohibited the act. Damned if you do and damned if you don't.

Sam December 12, 2008 at 10:18 AM  

Home Run, Chris!

p.s. You'll need to, too, when you get to be my age!

Krystyn December 12, 2008 at 11:32 AM  

That is hilarious! I love it!

I think my parents would have just pulled over on the side of the road! Yep, they love me that much!

Glad you found a 'lo!

Dina December 12, 2008 at 3:23 PM  

FUNNY! Reminds me of the time my friends and I were driving to the airport in D.C. - running behind schedule, of course. One of my friends was on the verge of going into a blind rage, because she had to go so bad. Seriously, she was scary. That was the day I finally believed she has the smallest bladder on the planet. My other friend's husband - the driver - was very irritated (a little scared too) and there seemed to be nowhere in that stretch of busy freeway to pull off for a QUICK potty break. Someday, maybe I'll blog about how we had to cut an empty water bottle in half so my friend could amazingly keep her balance while peeing in it. My friend's husband was horrified, but amazed and relieved (we all were) that she managed not to spill a drop. I suppose he should be given some credit for managing to keep the Jeep so steady in some serious traffic.

Kimber December 12, 2008 at 6:16 PM  

Oh my that would be terrible. I'll have to ask hubby about that, he's from that area of California.

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