Our many road trips have provided quite an education in restroom resources. We are very choosy about where we make our pit stops --- for the truck as well as it's occupants. Only in extreme emergencies do we stop at any old place.
Jerry's new job hauling rock or dirt from a quarry to the sight has him on the road all day long. Many of these roads are little more than one lane country roads. The likelihood of finding a McDonald's or Petro station are nil.
Recently Jerry had an urgent call of nature while driving to a remote quarry on one of these country roads. With his permission (or even without) I have to pass this story along. To aid the visualization, I must add here that Jerry is a large man and neither of his knees bend very far due to not-so-successful knee replacements. Rising from a chair is not something he takes for granted, especially if he has to do so quickly.
With that said, back to the urgent call of nature on the country road (in Arkansas, by the way). He remembered a little church along the way. Behind this little church is an outhouse, a very old outhouse. But, any port in a storm, so to speak. As he settles in and heaves a major sigh of relief (so to speak) he looks down to see a snake slither across his feet! As much as he would have wanted to, he couldn't make a beeline back to the truck. (If it was me you would have seen a streak of humanity with britches wrapped around the ankles, tripping, climbing, or crawling over anything in the way to get the h--- out of that outhouse!) Unfortunately, Jerry had enough time in his escape to notice a shillelagh (shi-LAY-lee: Irish club or cane made of wood) standing in the corner of the outhouse. "Odd," he thought, until he tried to remember the name of the person who drove the snakes out of Ireland --- "and where the h--- is he now?"
So, if you are ever in a position where any outhouse will do, but you see a shillelagh inside, RUN FOR THE NEAREST BUSH! Better take the shillelagh with you.