Bushplanes and bathroom drama

After the beauty of Northern Wisconsin and northern Michigan, I crossed back into my homeland Canada through the Sault. I’ve never been in the Sault before (Sault Sainte Marie for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about).

I was sitting in a Tim Hortons’ parking lot, the FIRST stop I made when I got back into Canada (tis funny how Timmies feels like home and NOT seeing it on every corner while driving all through the US for a couple days almost made me feel anxious! Im addicted to the timmies presence, as im not a real coffee drinker)…anyway, I was sitting in the parking lot in my bus and felt like this town was like Saint Thomas. The people are a bit rough and rugged, but seemed friendly enough and were helpful when I saw the special fancy garden advertising the bushplane museum and asked for directions.

Ohhhhh the bushplane museum. It was amazing. And full of planes and engines and information however NOT full of toilet paper. This I discovered first hand. Let me firstly say how very impressed I was with the planes and the extensive collection in this massive building. This museum puts Sault Sainte Marie on the map and is worth the trip. Also of note, is the beautiful waterfront walkway. Lots of time and money has clearly been invested in these two attractions in the city.

Since I was traveling and living in my bus, I took advantage of the facilities when I was done the tour of the museum. Cell phone in hand (thank goodness for that!!!! ) I went into the motion activated lighted bathroom. There were several stalls but I was the only one in (thank goodness for that too!!!).

I parked myself in position and spent the necessary time, after which an air freshener would have been quite useful. Ready and relieved, I looked to my left and in horror discovered there was NO toilet paper. And the back up roll was also gone. I sat imprisoned on ‘the throne’ wondering how on earth I was going to get out of this predicament.

Looking lustily at the cardboard roll not void of precious toilet paper, I decided my next best bet was to try and peel off thin layers of the cardboard to use instead of toilet paper. I carefully tried to peel off a thin layer and it just kept ripping off in tiny quarter size pieces. This was clearly not going to help me substitute my toilet paper needs. After some more sitting and thinking, I wondered if I could take off my underwear and use that, and throw it away after. No. My cell phone! I have my cell phone! I googled the phone number for the bushplane museum and called. I was directed through the automated menu until finally I was given the option to call the front desk, which ironically was barely 20 feet outside the bathroom door behind which I sat imprisoned.

I heard the ‘boy’, who looked maybe 18, answer the phone.

“Hi” I said. ” This is the lady you just directed into the washroom 20 minutes ago. I’m trapped in here without toilet paper, and I have to warn you, I’ve had a sore stomach so I apologize it does not smell like roses in here.” (Truly I was embarassed.) “Is there a female staff who could come in here and bring me some toilet paper?” “Also, the lights went out and I’m sitting in the dark” (because there was no motion to keep them on whilst I sat and did my thing).

”No”, he said. “Would you be ok if I brought you some? I can be your saviour.”

I told him that was fine and to hand it under the stall door for me. He did so, handing me a massive industrial roll of toilet paper.

When I finished up I snuck out of the museum as fast as I could so I could escape without having to look at the boy behind the desk.

And THAT is the about the most adventurously embarrassing thing that has happened to me in a while.

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