Mrs. HM Almost Becomes Thronebound

When we stopped at the rest area on the way home from our Oklahoma casino trip, I used my cane. My knees stiffen up severely when riding in the car. Farmer H was yards ahead of me. Not because he had to "rest" so bad, but because that's always how he walks. Many paces ahead of me. He was across the little lobby area with the drinking fountain, and in the maze entrance of the men's room before I crossed the open threshold.

A janitor was coming out of a suppy room on the left. He saw me caning along.

"There's a family restroom right there, ma'am. You could save yourself a few steps."

"Oh. Thank you. I remember that now."

Yes. I DID remember, because The Pony and I had utilized just such a family restroom at the rest area on the southbound side of the highway, on a previous CasinoPalooza, after I closed my leg in A-Cad's door and ripped out a chunk of flesh. He had bandaged my leg as best he could.

Anyhoo... I caned over to the family restroom. I will probably never utilize it again, unless I rip a chunk out of my leg.

There was a handrail on the concrete-block wall on the right of the toilet. It was pretty close to the wall itself, but I could still get my hand around it for a grip. The problem was that the rail did not extend far enough forward. The giant toilet paper dispenser was mounted there in front of it. So I couldn't get good leverage to pull myself off the throne. It took several tries!

In fact, I was beginning to worry that I might be thronebound! How would I be rescued??? I'd have to call Farmer H, hoping he actually answered his phone. Then he'd have to find the janitor to unlock the door. And there I'd be, waiting for a hand to hoist me off the throne.

Yeah. I probably won't use the family restroom again for "resting" purposes.