So a few days ago a black bear watched me poop. It was a quiet thursday afternoon and I was nearly done with my shift at the golf course. With less than 30 minutes to go and with all my jobs done, I decided to drive my golf cart back to the shop and put away my tools. However, up to that point I had being holding back the urge to go to the bathroom, because as many do not know, golf course bathrooms are often the place where old men and women drunk out of their mind let loose. However at this point in my day I was running out of time and options, so I drove to a secluded bathroom by a tee box and began the pooping process. I was about midway through the process when I heard a noise. In retrospect I should have known all along what it was, but at the time my innocent mind thought Oh! It must be a golfer looking for his golf ball in the bushes. I was horribly mistaken. Just as I finished that thought, I looked through the air vent in the small metal plated bathroom, and looking me right in the eye was the biggest black bear I have ever seen. Now, I have seen a lot of bears in my days (I live in Alaska for heavens sakes), but this one took the cake. Black bears may not grow to the same size as a brown bear, but black bears have a much more intimidating factor to themselves in that they dont stop attacking you for any reasons. Brown bears might leave you alone if you play dead. A black bear will eat you alive. So here I am with my pants down looking into the eyes of this behemoth of a mammal, and all I can think of is There as way too many bad puns about this bear scaring the crap out of me. Not the most profound last thoughts, but it would have to do. Lucky for me, this particular bathroom was made to be bear-proof, so in theory there was no way for him to get to me. So with the bear watching, I finished my business, however after while turning my back to the vent as I fixed my pants back into position, the bear disappeared. I sighed in relief and went for the door. I slowly opened the door inch by inch, hoping to not see any sign of this peeping tom, but to my dismay after fully opening the door, I discovered just how screwed I was. This bear was about 8 feet outside the door sitting on his back end looking at me with his tongue hanging out like a dog wanting to play fetch. After nearly soiling my pants, I closed the door and began to think of a plan of escape. Although I was prepared to wait, my impatience and my desire to get home and enjoy my weekend overpowered me eventually. I opened the door just wide enough to see the bears position, and he hadnt moved any since I last checked. Then began about 10 minutes of yelling everything I could at this bear in an attempt to frighten this thing off. Shouts ranged from Fus Ro Da! to Go find Goldilocks! to The power of Christ compels you!. But to no avail. This fat specimen of black fur and sass was refusing to move his tubby butt. I was not even scared at this point. I was mad. The only thing between me and my weekend was this bear who was either the most patient hunter I have ever seen or the dumbest animal I have ever encountered. I needed a way to get past this thing. Then I remembered my roots. My mother has been a seahawks fan for her whole life, and she has mastered a shout I like to call the Seattle Shriek. This thing peels paint off walls and propels football teams to victory. I have only heard her do it a few times in my life, but when I have heard it I have not been able to hear for weeks on end. So in a moment of either brilliant bravery or stupidity, I kicked the door open, threw up my arms, and let my vocal chords rip, giving the best impression of my mum seeing a big hit on sunday. This time it was the bears turn to crap himself. It scrambled to its feet and ran away making a noise I could only guess was a whimper. It scrambled up a tree and stared down at me like a scaredy cat stares down at a cockroach from on top of a chair. I sprung into action and ran to my golf cart, dukes of hazard slid into the drivers seat, floored the pedal, and peeled out on the gravel road going maybe 8 mph. I could not stop laughing! I, a 61 skinny ginger had scared off a man eater! I am supreme! I am alpha! Suck it bear! Thats when I realized that I was still working on a golf course, and every golfer that stopped me on the way back to the shop asked me if either a young woman or Axel Rose was being brutally murdered on the next hole. ... I guess you cant win every battle.
Posted on: Sun, 03 Aug 2014 02:22:58 +0000
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