I'm back from Florida!
My first day there was beach perfection. Jamie and I relaxed on the sand, read a little bit, dozed off in the sun. And then ... I had to pee.
I asked the nice lady at the lifeguard station if there were public restrooms on the beach. She pointed to another lifeguard hut in the distance and said it's near that. I walked and walked through the sand, making the journey in just my bikini and flip-flops, and couldn't find a restroom anywhere.
An old man was walking the same direction as me, so I stopped him and asked if he knew of any nearby restroom.
He pointed straight ahead.
"It's a couple blocks that way, then you'll see it."
I walked a couple blocks and saw no sign of a restroom.
The guy was still walking my direction, so I stopped him again.
"Keep going," he said. "You'll see it."
I continued walking. But after a bit, my flesh was burning in the sun, I needed water, and I was very far away from where I had started. Oh, and I still had to pee.
"Where the heck is this restroom?" I said to the guy.
"Keep walking about 10 or 15 more minutes, then you'll come to a restaurant and you can use their bathroom."
Dude, no. I was in a sweaty bikini. I wasn't about to walk through some random restaurant while people were having lunch.
So ... welcome to my toilet:
It was my first time peeing in the ocean, and I was a little nervous and disturbed by it, but I'm told people do it all the time.
A couple of my friends tried to explain that the ocean is nature's bathroom.
"Whales poop there,' they said.
Yeah. But whales don't have any other options.
