SHORT:
header picture says it all.
they still won’t accept my giftcard “at their location”
which of course begs the question
WHICH LOCATIONS TAKE THEM?
MEDIUM:
I’ll keep this week’s newsletter short and sweet. I just got back from a two day lab/incubator where I had to memorize a ten minute pitch and deliver it. And socialize and schmooze and be peppy. So I’m tired. But it was awesome. Everyone was brilliant.
The world’s gonna end real soon but at least we’ll all be laffin!
^My major takeaway
Also, if you are a creator/writer/filmmaker/anyone — check out this nonprofit and read up on their work/ their site: https://www.respectability.org/entertainment-news-media/ (they did a little Zoom seminar with us and it was fantastic).
Next year I’m gonna apply to the same social justice comedy incubator with a presentation about how if u do CrossFit? u r trans! (truck born in person body trying to present more as truck). I think it’ll kill. I think everyone will agree with me.
LONG:
I did a show last week where we had to talk about nebulous behavior and then a panel of gals decided if it was “good” or “bad”. I will tell the story here. Feel free to respond with your thoughts (if you’re a first-time newsletter reader, go back and read the archives. I promise I do actually know how to write. It’s usually funnier/ prettier. I also say this every week so… who knows).
ANYWAY. The Story:
When I was 12, I went to overnight camp in the mountains. We slept in tents for most of the session, but there was one night a week where we hiked out into the woods and slept on the ground.
I spent the week before the hike constipated as all hell. I did not poo once. I told one of my cabin-mates (let’s call her Vee). She was like “jesus christ”.
According to the internet, a regular walking plan -- even 10 to 15 minutes several times a day -- can help the body and digestive system work at their best.
To get to the campsite? We walked 95 mins.
On the way there, my counselor explained that, when we arrived. There would be a designated “pee tree” with toilet paper shoved onto a branch nearby. But if we had to go #2? We had to ask her for The Shovel™.
We got there. The pee tree was selected (it was about 200 ft from the sleeping area).
Then, the 95 minutes hit me. A week’s worth of camp stew and apples and marshmallows were about to exit my body. Thanks to our little forest romp.
I needed to ask for the shovel. But I couldn’t.
When I was 12 I was shy. So shy that I would cry at the thought of going to a restaurant and having to place an order. I hated eating out (but now that I’m gay, I can’t get enough of it etc. etc. heyo!).
THUS AND SO, I did not ask for the shovel.
I just went to the pee tree. And unloaded.
I used the toilet paper on the branch. Kicked dirt over the nightmare pile. And skittered back to the campsite.
30 minutes later, we heard a blood-curdling scream. Another camper had ventured up the hill to the pee tree and discovered ~the situation~.
The counselor was furious. She gathered us and was like, “WHO DID THIS? WHO DIDN’T ASK FOR THE SHOVEL? WHOEVER DID THIS HAS TO TAKE THE SHOVEL RIGHT NOW AND GO BURY IT OR ANIMALS WILL COME ATTACK US IN THE NIGHT OR WHATEVER (I don’t really remember why we had to bury it but I think it had to do with animals)”.
Everyone looked at me. And Vee was like, “it wasn’t Reid, Reid hasn’t shat in DAYS”. I was like “Yeah, totally. She’s right. Embarrassing to admit! But ya! I’m full of poo!”
Then everyone looked at this random girl (for the sake of this I’m calling her Caroline).
Caroline looked guilty. So guilty.
Everyone was like, “Caroline we literally know it was you who didn’t ask for the shovel and then left an insane thing up on the hill look at ur face it was so u”.
And she was like “it wasn’t me! I promise!” but nobody believed her.
The counselor handed her the shovel and she had to go bury it.
And for the rest of the camp session, everyone called her “Big Shit”.
I would like to take this moment to formally apologize to Caroline. I follow her on FB still and she didn’t really get any taller than 4’11’’ and I wonder if that has to do with me and the trauma of my big shit.
Did my big shit make her… little?
I told my gf this story and she laughed so hard she cried.
The girls at the Bad Behavior comedy show said that I actually “am good” and the person to blame for all of this was the counselor. Why didn’t she just leave the shovel by the pee tree?
Lmk your thoughts.
If you hated this. Sorry!
Some weeks are about Kant and/or being trans and/or musings on desirability and other weeks r about shit!
That’s just how the cinnabon rolls… (sort of like my version of how the cookie crumbles… do you like it?)
C U NEXT TUESDAY!
Thank you for subscribing. If this is your first time reading the newsletter, read the archives. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s not – it’s very much like when people slip on ice.
Sincerely,
Reid
Venmo: @rpope-venmo-26
Donate to The Audre Lorde Project
Bonus Jonas Zone:
Truly an excellent newsletter dealing with childhood trauma around shit which WE ALL HAVE. How could any semi adult expect 12 yr olds to ASK FOR THE SHOVEL. Ugh.