An incident occurred the other week that took me for a stroll down memory lane.
It was back in the early 90’s and I was the house emcee at a comedy club in Richmond Hill. I was lodged in a swanky hotel. After breakfast on the Sunday, it was time to head home. At the time I was driving a white Mustang. I meandered through the parking lot and inserted the key in the door but it wouldn’t turn. I studied the key to ensure it wasn’t bent. I tried again but still no luck. Frustrated, I opened my clothing bag and removed a coat hanger. The locks were down and they were the kind shaped like a bullet so it was going to be a test of patience and dexterity.
I fixed a loop in the hanger and then carefully worked it between the glass and the rubber insulation. It was at that point
that a man’s voice behind me asked me what I was doing. I wanted to reply with something sarcastic like, “Can’t you see? I’m water skiing!” Instead, I continued working and explained that my key didn’t work. “Maybe that’s because this isn’t your car a$$&*%@!” he answered.
I froze and then stood back. The exterior, including the red pinstripe, and the red interior were exactly as my car. Dumbfounded, I apologized profusely and walked a few yards to find my Mustang. I jumped in and sat there feeling so small I was surprised I could see over the steering wheel.
Let us fast forward to the 2001. After a show at Club 54 in Burlington, I remember walking out the door and wondering if I should have used the men’s room. Nope. I lived in Stoney Creek so it wouldn’t take me long and I have a strong bladder.
As luck would have it there was construction on the Skyway Bridge and I sat there with my legs crossed. I wished I had saved my coffee cup because there was no way I could just exit and
relieve myself into the bay. Besides, with all those headlights I would have provided cheap entertainment not to mention the problems with a strong breeze.
I inched along with the other vehicles and actually considered doing what I haven’t done since I was a baby. I perished the thought. I tried to distract myself with other thoughts but being surrounded by all that choppy water only made things worse.
Finally, mercifully, I made it home. The elevator seemed to take longer than usual as I danced from one foot to the other. Thank goodness nobody else was riding with me. The doors opened and I tip-toed down the corridor. I had never noticed just how long the corridor was. As I got closer my bladder must have sensed something because the urge grew exponentially. With quaking hands I inserted the key and turned. I broke the key inside the lock. I had to call the superintendent but nature wasn’t just calling, it was screaming. I would have tip-toed back to the
elevator but I knew I wouldn’t make it. I opened the stairwell door and hurried down. I figured if I was going to have an accident it would be better in the privacy of the stairwell and I could clean it up later.
I made it to the ground floor, burst the door open facing the lake and fumbled with my fly. Why is it that whenever we make ice cubes or have to use a bathroom in an emergency we lose all motor skills? I didn’t even bother aiming into the lake I simply watered the lawn with a huge sigh of relief.
I called the superintendent and he drilled out the lock and opened my door with his master key.
So you might be wondering what had happened to remind me of the car incident. Last week I came home from shopping and greeted a delivery man I knew from the pharmacy. I hadn’t seen him in a while and we chatted while we rode the elevator. I stepped off and said goodbye as he was going higher.
I retrieved my keys as I walked that long hallway. I inserted my key but just like the car, it didn’t turn. Before I could understand what was wrong a nice lady opened the door. Both of us were startled until I realized the pharmacy delivery man had pushed the wrong floor button for me. All the corridors are decorated the same.
I smiled stupidly and apologized as she closed the door. I think I heard her hurrying to the bathroom. I know the feeling, lady.
Written by: Ben Guyatt
Ben Guyatt is a stand-up comedian and a published author. Visit his website at www.benguyatt.com and follow him on Facebook. He also hosts The Ben Guyatt Show every Sunday at 9 pm on AM 900 CHML.