Scent of Man

So some of you are probably wondering what, where and maybe even who this email is from.  It's me, Joe Helton.  Anyways, I added a few people to a list that forwards my entries to people and thought I'd let you know what I was up to from time to time.  If this email is clogging your inbox, just send a note back my way and I'll take you off of the list, no hard feelings.  This is just my lazy way of proving I am alive.

"Scent of Man," the sergeant said to me--to me that's a funny description of why all the female interpreters on base to sat around a sergeant and I in the chow hall after a long day of training (it definitely wasn't our ruggedly handsome looks of caked dust and sweat stains).  It was funny at the moment and is now totally taken out of context, so I don't expect any chuckles from those reading this.  That description just came to mind after what happened today and seems to be a recent and unwelcome trend.

I was sitting in my room just after making the trek back to my room this morning when my bladder decided four bottles of water was enough for the moment.  No big deal, I'll just walk around the corner and go to the bathroom I thought....Well these guys, these TCNs (third country nationals, AKA low paid workers that do all the jobs you see on Discovery Channel's 'Dirty Jobs'"), must've descended upon the base's latrines with SWAT Team precision.  I came around the corner and there are two guys at each of the four bathrooms putting "Closed Until Further Notice" signs and tape across the door frames.  For added security, another guy was screwing the doors shut with a drill.  I couldn't help but wonder what happened to the initial notice of the bathroom closure, but figured I'd just walk over to the next living area and use their bathrooms.  Wrong.  As I rounded that corner I caught a glimpse of another group of TCNs walking away, leaving the same presents across the door.  Well, there are three bathroom complexes and the third time is a charm, so I booked it across a gravel lot, between sewage tanks, through a hole in the concrete wall and there was another crew finishing up the last bathroom door.  I don't know where they came from, but in all of about 5 minutes, every bathroom on base was locked down.  I asked the guy what was up and he used his best broken english to say the sewage water was backing up in the city.  His buddy held up a bottle of water and said in his finest english, "use dis to showa."  Nice.  So from now, until further notice, I'll be using the superheated porta-jons and the luxury shower/shave kit in the picture above.  

So, at this rate I better make sure there are plenty of open seats around me at dinner tomorrow because Scent of Man kicks at 112F.