Alright, so you wanna hear about porta john pranks, huh? Let me tell ya, back in the day, me and my crew, we got up to some real shenanigans. Not always proud of it, looking back, but hey, you live and learn, right? We were young, full of beans, and sometimes, well, things just happened.
That One Time with the Air Horn Under the Seat
So, picture this. We were working on this big construction site. Miles of nothing but dirt, machinery, and a long line of those blue plastic thrones. Morale was kinda low, work was dragging, you know how it gets. We needed something to liven things up. And one of our guys, let’s call him “Sparky” ’cause he always had these bright, if questionable, ideas, came up with a gem.
The “plan” was hatched over a lukewarm coffee break. Sparky had managed to get his hands on one of those super loud marine air horns. The kind that could wake the dead. His idea? Rig it under the toilet seat of one of the porta johns. The unsuspecting victim sits down, and BAM! Instant shock and awe.
So, first, we had to pick our target porta john. We chose one at the far end of the line, a bit more isolated. Less chance of collateral damage, or so we thought. Then, under the cover of a particularly noisy bulldozer doing its thing, Sparky and me, we snuck over. It was trickier than you’d think, trying to tape that darn air horn canister under the seat so the button would get pressed just right when someone sat down. We used a whole roll of duct tape, I swear. We tested it lightly, without actually sitting, just to make sure the pressure point was good. Seemed okay.
Then we backed off, found a good vantage point behind a stack of pipes, and waited. It felt like an eternity. A few guys walked past, chose other units. Our nerves were jangling. Was it gonna work? Were we gonna get caught instantly?
Finally, Big Tony, the foreman – a guy built like a brick outhouse himself, and not known for his sense of humor when it came to work – started heading towards our “special” unit. Oh man, our hearts were in our throats. This could go really, really bad. He pulls open the door, steps inside, and closes it. We held our breath.
Then it happened. We heard the most unholy BLAST, followed by a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. The porta john door flew open like it was shot out of a cannon, and Big Tony came stumbling out, clutching his chest, eyes wild. For a second, we thought he was having a heart attack. We were terrified.
He was yelling, “What in the blazes was THAT?!” He looked around, spotted us peeking from behind the pipes, trying (and failing) to suppress our horrified giggles. The jig was up. He stomped over, face like thunder. I thought we were done for. Fired, at least.
He made us dismantle our contraption, gave us the lecture of a lifetime about safety, respect, and not being complete idiots. We were genuinely sorry at that point, especially seeing how shaken he was. But then, after he’d calmed down, and after a few other guys who’d heard the commotion came over and started chuckling once they knew he was okay, even Big Tony cracked a smile. He said, “Alright, you got me. You little punks. Don’t ever do it again.”
We got off with a warning, and a lot of ribbing from the other guys for the rest of the week. Looking back, it was a stupid, risky thing to do. Could have really scared someone badly or caused an accident. We were just lucky Big Tony was tough as nails. It was one of those youthful misadventures, you know? Definitely filed under “things I wouldn’t do again,” but it’s a story that still gets told when the old crew gets together. We learned a bit about consequences that day, and maybe a little about how to pick our prank targets more wisely. Or better yet, just stick to telling jokes.
