hey, you gotta pay for that!

It seems like the caliber of friends I’ve met through blogging is a lot higher than the friends I have in person. That’s the best part of blogging, really – the people. All my friends want to talk about in person is their marriage, kids, work, or how long it took their mother to shovel all the boringdrinkersnow off her balcony in Maine so Fido can get out to poop in case it’s urgent. Blah blah blah blah blah. Enough is enough already! For the love of God – no more. I’d rather hang out with the majority of fellow bloggers I’ve talked to over my friends in person. Crazy, right? (Hey… I’ve given y’all fair warning that I’m weird.)

Well, I’m finally getting back to sharing guest posts that I’ve been slacking on lately. And, don’t worry – this blogger is a lot funnier than my friends in real life. So, you’re welcome. Make sure you’re you visit Lady Dickson on her blog. She is piss-your-pants-funny. Or diaper. Don’t worry… this is a judgment-free zone so we embrace allΒ differences.

Let’s get on with it then:


 

In 2013, my husband and I went on a 6 month tour of Europe. On our stop in Portugal, we decided “hey, let’s go to Morocco since it’s right there” and off to Morocco we did. Gotta love last minute decisions like that. Here’s the thing, I’ve been to third world. I went to Thailand in 2008 and it was a friggin blast. But this seemed like a completely different kind of third world. Whilst in Thailand, I could use the public bathrooms whenever I wanted without paying. Coming over to Morocco, and a lot of Europe I might add, I had to start paying to urinate.

What the fuck is this nonsense. I ate your food, I drank your water, I paid my bill, and now you want me to pay to extract all dis bidniz you supplied out of my body? That shit cray.

Naturally, as I am not used to doing so, I forget to bring my change purse with me to the bathroom of this one rooftop restaurant located in the centre of Marrakesh. Thankfully, there was no one on guard to give money to so I figured this was a rare free washroom. SCORE. I know where I’m coming from now on to drop trou.

During my healthy dump, I hear a woman screaming at someone in Arabic and think “oh man, I would hate to get yelled at in a language I don’t know.” Turns out, she was yelling at me but I was completely clueless of it. The second I stepped out of the stall, she was all up in my grill pointing at her dish beside the door. Naturally, I looked like a deer caught in headlights and threw my hands in air and kept repeating “I don’t know what you’re saying…” Obviously, I needed to leave some money in the dish beside the door.

MY BAD.

Now I had to somehow tell her I don’t have money on me.

Me: I don’t have any money on me.
Woman yelling in Arabic.
Me: I don’t….have any…money on me. *flipping my pockets inside out*
Woman yelling in Arabic.
Me: Not…sure where to go from here.

So I just try to leave but she barricades herself against the door. Perfect, this is going well. I just fold my arms, look at her, and tap my foot on the ground. With how long this is taking, my husband must be thinking I am murdering this toilet.

Finally, I had enough of this. I started screaming my husbands name in a zero percent passionate way. I mean, this was not the womans fault. Some white chick who doesn’t know how to follow the rules popped a squat all willy nilly and girlfriend needs to get PAID. I was willing to pay her, I JUST NEEDED MY GODDAMN COIN PURSE.

After screaming my husbands name for about a minute, she finally gives in. She moves out of the way and lets me out of the bathroom. As I’m leaving, she starts yelling at me again and I just sprint up the stairs to the roof, grab my husband and we gone.

My coin purse never left my side after that..

ladydicksonRight before the hostage shituation.

101 Comments

  1. #1: You took the words right outta my brain, “It seems like the caliber of friends I’ve met through blogging is a lot higher than the friends I have in person. That’s the best part of blogging, really – the people.”

    I really hope I’m one of those peeps! πŸ™‚ (smiles all pretty and bats lashes)

    #2: Great shared post on Morocco. Now I don’t have to go there. Thank you. I will check out her site.

    Reply
      1. Yeah, Spain & Italy I had to pay sometimes. I’m going to Turks & Caicos soon, so I’ll be free to pee in the sea! πŸ™‚ We decided T&C would be a good place to go since all the childbearing women will want to avoid the Zika virus and well, me sans uterus, I’m a perfect candidate to travel and not give one fuck about Zika … unless I’m one of those rare people who get Guillain-Barre disease! And if I do, hey, life’s an adventure, so why not live it!!!

        Here’s a video of Turks & Caicos:

        Reply
  2. Oops! . . . . painted on the base. Anyway – camel rides, five bucks. My buddy bites and finds out it’s twenty dollars to get off! And those camels bite! I laughed my a** off πŸ™‚ Another person’s misfortune can be so funny! So, I love the drinking quote – I think maybe I drink because I’M boring πŸ˜‰

    Reply
      1. There was a group of us – I was in the military back then and we were very dangerous people. Truth is, we threatened the fellow with bodily harm and he changed his mind. Not proud of it but, hey, he wasn’t being nice, either! I guess if you didn’t have t you would to beg from someone!

        Reply
  3. Hey Shameful Sheep, I had a situation in Greece 30 years ago. My sister were on a bus, yes, with chickens, and stopped halfway through a 14 hour trip. All the women stood in line and I figured out it was for the toilet. When I finally got there it was concrete walls and a hole in the floor. I then realized that the woman in there before me was over 80 years old and this was normal. So I pulled down my pants, held the walls and peed. I chose the bus over another bottle of water.

    Reply
  4. Pan

    For awhile we had pay toilets, at least in America’s northeast. . New Jersey had really embraced the idea.. Pennsylvania was right behind.. You couldn’t find a free pee or poo place, except at home πŸ˜‚
    Glad that fad faded fast..

    Reply
  5. Hilarious post. Thanks for sharing.

    And yeah, I agree with you 100%…I’ve connected with many bloggers and I’ve discovered it’s one of the best things about writing/posting. It’s so much more interesting to connect to new people and share new ideas and new stories than it is to have the same conversations to keep up with the Joneses (socially anyway). β€œSo and so is up to such and such. And did you hear about whoseit?” Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to keep up personal relationships, but hearing what people all over the country (and world) have to say through their blogs and really getting a great look at things through their perspectives is remarkably refreshing and engaging.

    Reply
  6. I feel the same way about my blogging buddies too (and glad I can post it hear so my live friends can’t read it!). I had the same exact experience in Athens like 30 years ago. Screaming attendant and all (maybe they go to school for that?). Worse yet, they wanted me to pay for two prints in concrete with a drain in the middle. Do you know how hard it is to pee standing up without it running down your legs? Women are at a definite disadvantage.

    Reply
  7. I loved that! I had to pay to use the public restroom in the bus station in Mexico. You have to tip everyone in Egypt especially the toilet cleaners. At the airport they would give you two sheets of toilet roll for your visit. Heaven help you if you got Gippy Tummy!

    Reply
  8. Someone should just shit in her little dish and serve it to her warm.
    While we’re on the subject, I hate those restroom attendants here in the US that expect a tip for handing you a towel to dry your hands on. I could understand a tip if they came in and wiped my bottom or shook my pecker, but for handing me a towel I could have picked up myself–ridiculous.

    Reply
  9. Yeah, that was an unpleasant surprise in Marrakesh. I’m used to paying in public toilets in London but in restaurants where you’ve already paid a premium AND tipped the waiter? One of the things that has put me off returning to Morocco.

    Reply
      1. In London and many other UK cities, it’s in places like railway stations and public toilets but not in restaurants and cafes or museums and galleries. In the UK, one of our euphemisms for going to the toilet is ‘to spend a penny’.

        Reply
  10. So, everything come out OK? About the weirdness… I find weirdness attractive! In Canada, it’s against the law to piss in public, but OK to take a dump. Go figure! I guess they regard it as fertilizer. Funny blog! Shameful, but funny πŸ™‚

    Reply
  11. When we went to Morocco my wife and mother in law visited the local amenities and put a generous slack handful of coins into the dish. They were thrown back because they were copper coins, not silver! I’ve never seen such a violent outburst from a wizened little old lady!

    Reply
  12. Oh….My….G…. I would have died thinking I was about to be kidnapped. Can you imagine being kidnapped and not knowing the language of your kidnappers. Fek!!
    Also, back in the day ( like 2002) I was hot and heavy into Live Journal and made some amazing friends that I am still friends with today. We still have our journals but since the invention of Facebook we all migrated this way and started to get to know each other in real life. Quite a few of them I have met and talk to frequently. They’ve turned out to be better friends than a lot of people I have known my whole life.
    I really miss the days of LJ sometimes.
    I miss it a lot actually and I feel like WordPress is sort of turning into my LJ. I like having the opportunity to “meet” other humans and learn about their lives.

    Reply
    1. Right? I would probably cry and assume my life was in danger haha. Scary. I never got into LJ for some reason, but I was all over MySpace. It’s awesome you’ve been able to maintain an online friendship for that long, and even meet them in person. Cool πŸ™‚ It’s great having the opportunity to meet people you never would have otherwise.

      Reply
  13. I don’t particularly remember having to pay to use the WC when we were in London, but when we visited a couple of historic properties the paper was all stamped “Property of Her Majesty’s Government”. Talk about a weird feeling!

    “Baksheesh” is very common in middle-eastern countries. People would run ahead to open a door for you, and then hold out a hand, saying, “Baksheesh, baksheesh”. If you tripped, somebody would help you to your feet and then want baksheesh. Sometimes you could get away with ignoring them, but not always. “Salaam Aliakahm” (and I’m sure I misspelled that) is Arabic for God bless you, or Peace be with you, and often replying with that phrase would make them think you were a local, rather than a tourist, and back off.

    The majority of he people are desperately poor, and they see anybody who can afford to actually *travel* as being wealthy beyond their wildest dreams (and we are, frankly), so they assume we can afford to tip. Try supporting a family on the equivalent of $1 or $2 a day, and see how much baksheesh you want.

    Reply
  14. I went to South America back in 2000 & we had to pay to use the bathrooms – I didn’t mind if they were clean & had toilet paper & soap (& it wasn’t much money given our exchange rate at the time). What was really weird was that you weren’t allowed to flush any toilet paper, it had to be put in a waste paper basket beside the toilet! Something to do with all the pipes being too narrow & blocking too easily. Even more weird, it wasn’t as gross or smelly as you’d think it would be! (the attendants emptied the baskets. Come to think of it, I should have paid them a LOT more, in danger money)

    Reply
  15. So, I’m sitting here in a reataurant to get a quick bite to eat. I’m not sure how I got to this thread, but I can’t stop laughing! I think that learning a few football (American) moves to get past the attendant would be in order or just a straight on tackle. TAKE HER DOWN.

    Reply
  16. Blair, I guess this fact was left out of my favorite movie “Casablanca” for a reason. It may have made the movie a tad less romantic. I love how you describe the realization of the target of being yelled at in an unbeknownst language. Thanks for following my blog. Keith

    Reply

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