So the first thing I am going to do in my post this week is be real and honest with you dedicated readers, you. It is NOT Monday, July 14th as the more astute among you may have noticed and there is a perfectly good explanation for why this post was started and only finished in this dismally, disgracefully tardy fashion: business is booming in the wilds of Northern Virginia Port-a-Potty country.

In lue of any speaking engagements for either my Olympic achievements or my chewing philosophies, Port-a-Potties have become my calling and career.

It’s really all for the best, I think. I didn’t want to say anything before but there was always something missing from my previous endeavors. A lack of hyphens maybe? But this time I really think I’ve found my life’s purpose. I already can’t imagine any other career really challenging and comforting me like this one has even in the few short weeks in which I have been involved in the potty world. Allow me to fill you in.

I happened upon my big break into Port-a-Potty maintenance purely by accident. A frantic friend needed immediate help with the Back Flow Main Shaft Valve Latches (in layman's terms: the locks) of her deluxe VIP units ASAP and didn’t know where to turn. Always slightly curious and awed by the majestic Royal Flush, I eagerly decided to lend a hand as best I could.

When I got to the site, the line of desperate people needing relief was longer than an outhouse is stanky. Not only that, but they were becoming unruly and dangerously close to resorting to alternative locations to suit their needs, i.e the lawn and shrubbery of our friends serene country home where they were graciously hosting a concert for us.

So there I was in the midst of an angry, bladder-full mob, a frantic friend, and two Port-a-Potties locked air tight. I went to work quickly, doing what little I knew how to do: jiggle the latch and ask if anyone was in there. As it turns out it was a problem of trained pandas having locked themselves in, an unfortunate drawback to a concert entitled Captain International and the Moody Sing-A-Long Pandas...

The accuracy of the details is unimportant but hence was my proficiency for Port-a-Potty maintenance discovered. The rest is history. I enjoyed the end of the concert, once the pandas were again in a singing mood. Then I went straight home and enlisted myself with the most prestigious potty company in the area: Port-a-Potties-R-Us (where more hyphens means more credibility). I’m already learning and excelling at a rate unprecedented in the potty community.

Not to brag, though. I empathize with all of you working on resumes and sending in applications. Or is it sympathize, since I don’t actually have to do any of that now and will probably never know what it feels like. Yea, I have it made. I only hope this brings you, recent college graduate, a little bit of solace in your resume/application writing and submitting. Because that’s what this blog is here for. For you’re consideration.

And in the meantime think of me for all of your Port-a-Potty needs. Call us any time day or night and we’ll put your portable bathroom troubles to rest at long last!