Tuesday, October 1, 2024 Foolish Decisions

I only used the bathrooms at my junior high school once. You read that right: only once. The first time I used the bathroom there, I entered and right away knew that this was a bad place. Girls were standing around smoking and looking menacing. One of them asked me if I had any money and when I said no, she frisked me. That was the end of that. I developed a bladder of steel and refused to go in one of those places again. It might have been a better investment for me to develop a backbone, but such was not my way.

The only time this backfired on me was when I was with a group that went to the Mille Lacs Lake Indian Reservation on a day trip. It was a long drive on a school bus and when we got there, we were shown around the place and given lunch. I found a baby turtle by the lake and put it in a plastic container to bring home. Just before the buses were to leave to go back to school, I realized I was feeling nature’s call, so I went to find a bathroom. It was crowded with girls and in a foolish moment of fear, I decided to wait and go later.

The ride home was two or three hours of agony. All I could think of was how badly I had to go. We finally pulled up at the school – relief was in sight! It was after school had been let out, so I knew the bathrooms there would be empty. I ran up to the door and it was locked. Nooooooooo!!!!!

The walk home was a mile and I knew I’d never make it, so I found a largish bush, set the turtle down, snuck behind the bush (hoping it was giving me good enough cover) and relieved myself. By this time I was sick to death of that turtle; it represented the whole last three hours of misery. I left it in the container behind the bush and walked home.

When my brother and his friends found out I had left a turtle there, they were appalled at my thoughtlessness and insisted that we go back and get it. They had a point. Now that I was home and in a better frame of mind, it seemed like I’d just compounded one foolish decision with another, so back we went. I gave the little beastie to a neighbor boy who kept it for a long time and it became HUGE living the good life there.

What a storied life that turtle led! Imagine the story it would have told: the abduction at the lake, the little plastic prison and a long jolting ride, abandonment under a bush, during which hunger pangs no doubt presented themselves, and then a rescue bringing long life and everlasting food. It’s a better story than the one I’ve told, isn’t it?

I’ll probably leave this post under a bush in the morning.