There once was a time when I made fun of Renaissance Festival freaks. Following my life's downhill slide, however, now I am one. This year I ordered a chintzy ass beer wench costume in order to partake more fully in the festivities. After chugging a thermos of $7 dollar wine on the way to the festival, I had to pee. Wanting to avoid the porta-potties, I decided to endure the embarrassment of being in Renaissance garb in public and stopped at a gas station to use the pisser.
I knocked on the door and the deep growl of what only could have been a trucker let me know the bathroom was occupied. After hanging around for a few minutes and receiving plenty of check-out-this-freak-show stares, I realized the guy had to be taking a massive trucker shit that I did not care to smell, so I left to go somewhere else. Unfortunately, the only place between the gas station and the festival was a very large, very busy bar.
Trying to be inconspicuous, I speed-walked to the bathroom, had a very successful pee, and was making a severe bee-line for the door when suddenly I experienced a head-on collision with a woman entering the bar. We both screamed, she yelling, "JESUS CHRIST! I THOUGHT I HEARD A HERD OF DAMN ELEPHANTS COMING AT ME," and everyone in the bar turned to stare at us. In trying to be as unnoticeable as possible, I inadvertently drew the attention of every person in the bar to myself in my dumb ass beer wench outfit.
I finally made it to the festival where the massive amount of alcohol I consumed still made it necessary for me to visit the porta-potties several times. I also fell directly onto my drunk ass in front of many people. Thankfully they were just RenFest freaks.
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