The Alloway Watering Hole

For those of you raised in or around bona fide cities, the attendance of an organized parade offers plenty of bright and cheerful floats, few gaps in procession, lots of vendors, and overall, an enjoyable but utterly forgettable time.

But Alloway, tucked among the backwoods of South Jersey, offered this writer a
Halloween parade I would rather be able to forget.

Now if described a city as a mountain of beans in size and population, then Alloway would be the equivalent of one or two beans total. Small township; everybody knows most everyone. The kind of place that's rather nondescript, farming community. Blink and you're past it.

And every year, although I confess to only attending once, this wonderful backwater locale offers up the area a Halloween Parade. Now you have your normal float fare - but instead of Christmas garb, the participants are decked out in costume - the vampire to cowboy, to rock star and more. Although in some cases, the cowboys may not have been dressed up. My friend and I came to the conclusion that most of the guys probably had their looks improved by the costume. So much for checking out the male eye candy.

The parade itself, funny, amusing, but predictable. Groups, businesses, and fire departments and emergency services. Lights, horns, sirens.

But for a small place, the streets are packed. Hardly room to walk and twist your way down any given uneven sidewalk. Businesses, from the local pizza parlors, ice cream stands, etc, offering any sort of edible fare are open - but not for entrance. Tables bar the doorways and your order is taken and handed out. No sit and eat in this night.

Toward the end of the parade, I discovered that not only can you not partake of food while sitting, but neither are you allowed access to the restrooms. And it appears that the planning committee for this event overlooked the need for port-a-pots.

After threading a way through the masses - my friend and I reached a gas station/auto repair shop with a small patch of woods behind it. I couldn't wait; I had to go.

So I made my way through the dark to the back of the shop, found a nice little cubbyhole behind some stacked tires and dropped my drawers and squatted to do my business before my business did me.

Whew. Relief. I had been squirming for the past hour and then walking half of it looking for some where decent to go.

As I went to straighten up, and pull everything back into place, this guy comes staggering around the corner, pants unzipped and his hands ready to pull out.

"Um, this spot's taken!" I don't think I squatted so quickly since.

Well he grunted and went about 10 feet away to water a different patch of ground. So I waited for him to finish so I can at least have some privacy in pulling my underwear and pants back up.

A handful more guys came back to pee......

And a few more after that.....

I lost count by the time I just gave up on having any remaining dignity, stood up, turned around, and tugged everything as fast as I could into place. Talk about having your panties in a bunch... no.... I really mean that. They were bunched; and I was vacating the premises. Straightening could come later.

Needless to say, I have not been back. Nor do I have any attention to visit that particular "Watering Hole" again.