A little over a year ago Usbandhay and I went on a week long, kid-free trip to Maui. For 7 days we did nothing but eat fatty foods, drink yummy tropical drinks with slices of pineapple as garnish and drink some more. I can justify all of the pork consumed by balancing it with all of the pineapple that was used as a garnish. In my way of thinking one pineapple molecule bonds to a fat molecule and neutralizes it into nothingness. I'm sure you'll see this on Doctor Oz soon although you'll know where this knowledge originated.
Anywho, Usbandhay and I decided one morning to take a drive. We had a convertible, sunscreen and an entire day to kill. You can't get lost on an island that small, if you hit water you go the other way! So we decided to head to the North Shore. As you are driving north you see a sign: "State Highway Ends 500 feet" then "State Highway Ends 100 feet" and then "State Highway REALLY ends in 50 feet, you jackasses" but we keep driving cause where we're going, we don't need roads! Paved ones at least. So it turns out the signs weren't just a clever use of State funds. The State road ended and we went from smooth paved 4 lane roads to a dirt 1/2 lane road that most Ugandan's would sneer at. What made this even better(read: more terrifying) was the sheer cliff that sent you on a downward spiral to the Pacific ocean after a 50 foot fall on jagged rocks and bacteria infested coral beds. Turns out you DO need roads.
Since we were still in carefree vacation mode, we traveled on! Adventure? Heck Yeah! Danger? For shizzle! "The Planet's Best Banana Bread" hand painted on the side of a tree with an arrow pointed to the only way possible? Whhaaat? Yes! That was it. That sign was a metaphor for our finish line. We were now on a path the find the World's, nay The UNIVERSE'S best banana bread and all that we had to lose was our lives as we potentially careen over the side of a cliff to our doom and have to pay the deductible on the rental car insurance!
Now remember me telling you about my theory on molecular cohesion of fat to fruit? There may be a side effect... As the the road turned and wound so did my stomach. As we climbed yet another hill I gripped the door handle like a life line and when my stomach made noises loud enough to echo though the rocky caverns we were driving next to. I laughed and turned up the music so my sweet driver would not hear the screams of revolt happening in my midriff section. Because, you see, we just had gotten engaged 2 weeks prior to this fantastic romantic vacation and he still was not allowed to know that I, a girl, had bodily functions other that wild orchid scented B.O. and peppermint morning breath. In fact, for the whole first year my kegel muscles were stronger than a bear trap from clenching while vacating my bladder so he wouldn't hear me pee!
Finally! We came across the hut(literally) in question! Banana bread (and hopefully bathroom!) we have found you! I slide gracefully out of the car and pray to the volcano gods that I don't embarrass myself. I browse the breads and dried fruits and make my purchases including a bottle of water that I know I'll need to replenish lost fluids later and nonchalantly ask if their quaint little hut had a bathroom. Not a chance. Not a honey bucket, not a hole in the ground covered with banana leaves...nothing. F@*k....
Fast forward an agonizing hour on the same road. No houses, no restaurants. No electricity and no running water. I had even considered shattering the perfect girly image and go find a bush to do my biz-ness but the only bush/tree around looked like the scene from the karate kid where Ralph Macchio tries to save the bonzai and nearly dies by (none other than) plummeting to his doom down a cliff into the ocean. I was starting to lose faith while thinking of this theme song to keep me entertained when out of NO WHERE this gorgeous mansion with a paved driveway pops up. I thought it was a mirage! An art-dealing mirage! I yelled "Turn there! I need art!" or something close to that and simultaneously hopped out of the car and my flip flop in my haste and jammed my foot in the gravel. "No time! Save yourself!" I thought as I shoved it back on my foot possibly bleeding and infecting. I made it through the front door, looked like I belonged there for about 4 seconds until I word vomited my plea for a working toilet and tropical scented air-freshener. I tried to make it sound like "Excuse me Ma'am, but may I use you facilities, please? I promise to shop afterwards and make large purchases of your very over priced art work and glass thingies." but I am sure she heard nothing since by this time my body was starting to reject it's self and I was sweating more than what is appropriate for a twenty-something in flip flops.
I hit the head, released some demons and think I might have seen Jesus. Pretty cool guy, wears Birkenstocks.... As I vacated my bowels and then vacated the premises I had that terrible feeling of guilt. I just wrecked this poor lady's bathroom. Nothing that unholy had ever come out of me before but that's what a diet of alcohol, pork bits, and 17 pineapples a day will get you. I couldn't leave here without buying something. I wandered around...and wandered. I slipped in and out of the aisles trying to find something that could be justified as a purchase AND not break the bank. JesusH! $150 for a painting of a starfish? Really? Usbandhay was watching me in wonder. Wondering why weren't leaving that is since not a single thing in the gallery appealed to either one of our tastes when I finally came across a $12 ceramic turtle. Done. I paid in cash for my guilt-turtle and we continued on our way. Dehydrated. 2 pounds lighter. And with a severe respect for the digestive system of a traveling roasted pork consuming, one-week only alcoholic.
Best. $12. Ever.
