Hot Garbage

What do you think of when someone utters the phrase 'Hot Garbage???' Something grotesque, repulsive & stinky perhaps?

The Urban Dictionary definition of Hot Garbage is as follows:

'An extremely foul smelling fart, usually created by a mix of beer & foods including, but not limited to garlic, broccoli & beans, that slowly creeps across a room & lingers in the nostrils. Usually of the Silent But Deadly variety. Reminds you of the vicious, rotting scent of your trash cans waiting to be picked up on the hottest day of summer.-My stomach is a mess today. Can you smell that hot garbage?'

That extremely detail-oriented definition sure paints a rosy picture doesn't it? Well today's yarn of incredibly(Unfortunately!) true(With slightly altered names & locations to protect the guilty!!!) exposition is all about how the term, Hot Garbage was introduced into my vernacular(And is brought to you by the letter E!).

During my tenure in Philadelphia(One year & ten months to be exact!), the majority of my weekends consisted of Drinking at night & driving to LBI on the Jersey Shore to surf whatever waves the Atlantic Ocean deemed fit to spit out to us during the day. This short, little drive to the coast was about an hour & a half each way. When you shove enough hungover(Sometimes still drunk!) guys into a car for a surf trip, with little sleep & even less common sense, interesting events can happen!

These surf excursions were how our weekends(At least during the daytime!) were spent. I always likened them to male-bonding sandwiches that were stuffed with delicious waves with extra sea-salt added as flavor! Rain or shine. Snow, sleet or hail, this was standard modus operandi. We had nothing else better to do. We weren't the most domesticated lot! A weekend without a surf trip really wasn't considered a weekend at all in our eyes. Then there was the horrible five-day-wait until next Saturday to get those precious waves that would carry you through the tedium ad nauseum which was our mundane work week. Pranks & bodily functions/noises were not only tolerated, but encouraged. This was our entertainment during the drive to kill time. Dick & fart jokes were all the rage. No topic was ever taboo. Our goal was to 'out-gross' each other & by any means necessary & just laugh as often as humanly possible.

One particular Saturday my roommate Dennis & I woke up hungover on a sunny yet brisk morning & we were stoked! All of the surf forcasts were calling clean 4-6 feet waves. 4-6 feet in the sufing world is pretty much pefection. Fun, rideable waves with long workable lines. It doesn't get much better than this! I was actually up a little before Dennis, so I wolfed down some eggs & toast for some paddling energy. A short while later Dennis was up. Much to his chagrin, I rushed him out of the door before he could eat anything because I really wanted to get on the road. The thought of all of those beautiful waves not being ridden by yours truly was just too much to bear!

On the drive down, I was taking much pleasure in the fact that Dennis was more hungover than I was & his stomach was on the wash-cycle making him simultaneously nauseous & hungry. About 3/4 of the way to the beach, Dennis decides to pull into a McDonald's to relieve himself. That left me in the car, pissed off because I could smell the saltwater in the air at this point which had me completely frothing at the mouth! I was panting like a junkie that needed a fix. I had an extremely stressful work week & needed my surfing release! After about ten minutes, which seemed like an eternity to me, I decided to throw caution to the wind. I hopped out of the car with a purpose, I was going to fuck with Dennis in the bathroom for making me wait in the stupid McDonald's parking lot which was keeping me from my precious waves!

I stormed into the bathroom & checked out the scene. There was one nasty looking urinal & right beside it was the blue divider for the toilet. It was closed & locked. I surmised that Dennis was still taking care of hus business, so I began pounding on the door playing 'Wipe-Out' with my fists.

'What the fuck are you doing in there Dennis! Did you fall in??? What did you eat? It smells like Hot-Garbage! Your ass smells like fucking Hot-Garbage!!!!'

BOOM-BOOM!

I began pounding harder & harder on the stall door.

'HOT-GARBAGE!!!!!'

BOOM-BOOM!

'DENNIS SMELLS LIKE HOT-GARBAGE!!!!'

BOOM-BOOM!

You would think that my pummeling of the stall Dennis would say something. Perhaps yell out a 'Fuck You' or 'Stop It Asshole1' But there was no retort. This perplexed me.

'Say something you silly bastard!'

Nothing. You could hear a pin drop at this point.

I really wanted to provoke a reaction, so surveyed my surroundings once again & saw a full trash can off to my left.

'AIR-RAID!!!!!'

I began lobbing half-eaten burgers, fries, & snot rags over the top of the bathroom stall like they were grenades.

Still nothing.

I went back to the trash & found the cherry for the top of my Hot-Garbage birthday cake, a dirty diaper full of baby shit!

I started to gag as soon as I picked up that bio-hazard of a diaper & blindly tossed the bomb over the stall.

Still nothing.

'That's it! I'm fucking you up!'

BOOOOM!

I kicked in the stall door & to my horror I found a small Mexican man cowered in the fetal position in the corner beside the toilet. He had some baby shit smeared on his cheek & shoulder. I'm not sure who was more terrified @ this point, him or me.

'I no Dennis!'

'I no Dennis!'

'Please no hurt me!!!!!'

Do you remember that scene in the movie 'Animal House' when Bluto, D-Day & Flounder realize that the horse in Dean Wormer's office just had a heart attack & died? Remember how they ran out of the building screaming? That was me. I turned away from the little baby-shit-covered Mexican & bolted out of the McDonald's.

'OH SHIT!OH SHIT!OH SHIT!OH SHIT!OH SHIT!OH SHIT!OH SHIT!'

I was screaming like a little girl running across the parking lot. I did a 'Dukes of Hazzard' hip-slide across the car & dove into the passenger seat. I was cowered down below the dash shaking uncontrllably when Dennis finally came back.

'Um Biff...why are you on the floor???'

'Dude, where the fuck were you!???'

'I took a piss & then decided to grab an Egg McMuffin to go. Was there any particular reason that you ran out of the McDobald's bathroom screaming bloody-murder???'

'Please turn on the car & start driving & I promise I'll explain everything. Just fucking drive right now!!!!'

By the time that I finished telling Dennis the story, he was luaghing uncontrollably & was randomly yelling, 'Hot-Garbage!'

I can laugh about it now, but at the time, I had myself convinced that I was going to be arrested. As we drove the rest of the way to the beach, I was picturing myself in a holding cell with hardened criminals.

'What are you in here for?'

'Assault & Battery on a Mexican midget with baby shit.'

To this day, Dennis still explodes with uncontrollable laughter anytime someone utters, 'Hot-Garbage!'