Buckets

I know a guy who lives in a warehouse. This isn't actually odd; many people live in reconditioned warehouses in an attempt to have large open space and an open floor plan in the usually cramped city. Silly innocent me has always assumed that if a warehouse is zoned for living, then it must have indoor plumbing. Not so, my friends. The Warehouse has no toilet.

Fortunately for his girlfriend, he's created a mock toilet out of a bucket and a funnel they picked up at Kragen Auto Parts. For poo-ing, they have another bucket in which they have put kitty litter.

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

Did I mention that he'll often use an empty soda bottle for a urinal? By his bedside?

I understand that sometimes, when you gotta go, you gotta go. You do what needs to happen to get the job done. And you never speak of it again. Or if you're camping or hiking. Sometimes, the facilities just aren't in the middle of the woods, so you run off behind a bush and do your business. But it seems to me that maybe your own home would be the one place you'd not only prefer, but insist upon indoor plumbing.

He does have some facilities. He owns a bus that tows it's own composting toilet bus. Which I suppose is a little better.

The weird thing is, you'd never know by looking at him or hanging out with him. He's a really nice, intelligent guy. He's clean. He doesn't smell, he doesn't try to pee in my empty bottles or buckets.

It just goes to show you: you never know. You just never know.