It was probably something we ate at the buffet that caused the assault. By the time the tour bus stopped for fuel at the little cantina a few miles out of Mexico City there was no doubt I had gastrointestinal problems. We went inside and I quickly found the door marked, “las mujeres.” Inside was an attendant selling pieces of toilet paper for cinco centavos each. I was prepared, however, with my own supply of wet wipes being warned ahead of time of bathroom tissue filled with wood chips or the total lack thereof.
Grupo de las Geezers
The following day our group was scheduled to visit ancient pyramids. I was one of the first off the bus and somehow made it through the gauntlet of tourist junk vendors to find the restrooms located in a very modern visitors center. I hurried in and was so grateful for porcelain fixtures with flush handles and real rolls of paper. As I was exiting I nearly ran into a Mexican gentleman on the way in. He appeared a little startled and took a second look at the words “los hombres” on the door.
Although I felt a little drained I was able to keep it together for the rest of the day. I just had to remember the build up of pressure would not be gas but a surprise poopie.
El Geezer con El Tule
The last stop before our return to our hotel took us to more ruins and a visit to a tree called “El Tule.” The tree was really tall and really, really old but I had other things on my mind.
One of the phrases I had memorized was, "¿Dónde están los servicios, por favor?" which came in very handy. The lady at the sombrero stand took a look at my pained face and pointed past a wall and around a corner.
This time I made sure I went in the right one. Anyway, the door to the men’s room was open and I could see ragged guys pulling fixtures and pipes out of the walls. I hoped they were construction workers and not vandals and moved on.
The ladies bathroom had no door. The stalls had no doors. This was a challenge but I really was not in a shopping mood. I took the first seat and was dismayed to hear a guy enter banging tools around. I yelled, “occupado!” and heard him grunt and leave. Sheesh! There was no toilet paper or paper towels but I had my faithful packet of wet wipes. When I walked out I discovered a guy who must have left his post as cashier for the servicios. He hadn't been there when I hurried in but he saw me come out and informed me I had to pay two pesos to use the facilities. I gave him four as a tip for the fine accommodations, shook my head and left.