(Over the next few weeks, I'll post short installments of this true life experience. String them together and guess, where the main character is stuck.)
She took another sip from the bottle and looked around the group of people that surrounded her.
“I’m glad I went to the bathroom before I left,” said the big blonde woman in black at the back.
Without turning around the woman in the center commanded, “No peeing on the carpet.”
Eyebrows raised, lips tightened and glances went around the crowd, but no one said another word.
“Well, at least you have something fun,” the big blonde said to her, motioning to the dark glass bottle she held in her hand.
“Oh, this?” Lifting the bottle to show the label, she said, “Hotlips Cranberry soda.”
“Oh, not beer, too bad.” More giggling from the corner.
“Well, it might come in handy if you need it later,” the guy next to her said to the big blonde and his mousy girlfriend in the corner. They all obviously knew each other because the big blonde nudged the small mousy girl, they both giggled and he smiled.
“People used to use empty pop bottles, back in the day of the long cross-country family vacations, you know, kids need to go but Dad won’t stop,” explains the woman in the center. “But that meant the company had to destroy the bottle.”
“Don’t they clean them with steaming water and disinfectant?” said the woman opposite her who also snagged a bottle of pop.
“Yes. But it didn’t matter, if they find organic material in it, they don’t reuse it. They destroy it anyway.”
The young man to her right looked over at his friend, the big blonde and answered, “Well, there’s always your rubber boots.” More giggling from the mousey girl in the corner.
More eyebrows went up.
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