A couple of weeks ago I made my yearly trip to Indian Wells, CA for the Paribas Tennis Finals, and like every year it was a terrific time.
Here are some pics as we drove into Palm Springs:
I just love the desert.
We first watched the Women’s final and the champion was Jelena Jankovic and then Ivan Ljubicic took the Men’s title. Great matches. Great sportsmanship. Great speed on those serves! If I could only play that well.
Afterwards we ventured to Palm Springs for dinner at a posh restaurant (very 60s swinging decor) and that’s where the “incident” happened. Oh yes, an incident.
After drinking lots of water at the tournament I had to pee so badly that I politely excused myself from the table and hurried into the Mens Room. I tossed my backpack on the counter by the sink and rushed to the urinal. Phew, I made it in time.
As I was peeing I smelled something. It wasn’t a pleasant smell. I thought to myself, “Asparagus?” No, that wasn’t it.
I continued peeing and the smell kept getting stronger, and it was getting more intense, like burning rubber. I glanced behind me to the stalls and they were empty. Hmm I thought, what could it be? Did someone not flush? Was there a sudden plumbing failure and the toilets were overflowing?
I quickly looked down at my feet and nope, no sewage rising like an incoming tide.
Finally I finished peeing, and the smell was even worse.
After zipping and adjusting myself I turned to the sink and that’s when I saw it. Fire. Flames about four inches high were coming from my backpack. I quickly ran to the sink and with a firefighter’s skill I turned on the water and splashed the inferno and blew at the same time. The flames died. The smell remained.
What caused the fire? In my quest to get to the urinal I tossed my backpack onto a lit candle.
Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had to #2 and went into a stall?
Here are some pics as we drove into Palm Springs:
I just love the desert.We first watched the Women’s final and the champion was Jelena Jankovic and then Ivan Ljubicic took the Men’s title. Great matches. Great sportsmanship. Great speed on those serves! If I could only play that well.
Afterwards we ventured to Palm Springs for dinner at a posh restaurant (very 60s swinging decor) and that’s where the “incident” happened. Oh yes, an incident.
After drinking lots of water at the tournament I had to pee so badly that I politely excused myself from the table and hurried into the Mens Room. I tossed my backpack on the counter by the sink and rushed to the urinal. Phew, I made it in time.
As I was peeing I smelled something. It wasn’t a pleasant smell. I thought to myself, “Asparagus?” No, that wasn’t it.
I continued peeing and the smell kept getting stronger, and it was getting more intense, like burning rubber. I glanced behind me to the stalls and they were empty. Hmm I thought, what could it be? Did someone not flush? Was there a sudden plumbing failure and the toilets were overflowing?
I quickly looked down at my feet and nope, no sewage rising like an incoming tide.
Finally I finished peeing, and the smell was even worse.
After zipping and adjusting myself I turned to the sink and that’s when I saw it. Fire. Flames about four inches high were coming from my backpack. I quickly ran to the sink and with a firefighter’s skill I turned on the water and splashed the inferno and blew at the same time. The flames died. The smell remained.
What caused the fire? In my quest to get to the urinal I tossed my backpack onto a lit candle.
Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had to #2 and went into a stall?
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