Bidazed and Confused.

Sign marking the state line of Maine on a bridge, with a green metal structure in the background.
There will be no photographs directly related to this post.

So far on this trip, we’ve been encountering numerous bidets. Bidet-owners always remark that they don’t know how they’d Live without them, and I always sort of fear that they look at me and think “you… you are UNCLEAN – I’ll be BURNING my couch”. The toilets are all strangely warm, like they’ve been sitting in a shaft of sunlight, or are made of Living flesh. It’s like pooping in someone’s lap.

A close-up of a yellow snail on a textured, stone surface with green foliage in the background.
Early in the evening on Saturday night, we didn’t have a lot of joy. We were worried about the weather, worried about the show, and worried about a bunch of other stuff too. And then Heather spotted the snails. You take joy where you can get it.

They beep and make welcoming little sighing noises, preparing to service me and my undercarriage. I appreciate that they’re not as overeager as automated-flushing shitters, who always seem to want to hurry you on your way in a spray of your own aerosoled waste – but so far, I’ve not bonded enough with anyone that I feel that they could be my ass-guide on my bidet journey.

For you see, I think I AM bidet-curious in the same way that at some point I GUESS I could try recreational drugs. It’s something that is frequently peripheral to my Life and I certainly have friends who are hardcore BELIEVERS. I can understand how there might be an uptick to my quality of Life, but I need someone to respect that I might not be converted, and I am self-conscious and I would absolutely need a gentle guide.

For I am distrustful and set in my ways, both in ingestion and excretion.

The first time I got drunk, I needed someone who chose the beverage and a safe space for when things come off the rails. Ranting about walruses and global warming in the garden, throwing up noisily in the single bathroom in the house, I needed the support of those who’d seen me at my best who I could trust when I was feeling my worst.

A singer performs with a microphone while a musician plays a keyboard on a porch surrounded by greenery and string lights.
Heather Lloyd and Dan Pelletier kicking off the night at Rivergig House Concerts in South Portland, ME.

And so I need a guide who knows what the buttons do. A guide who knows what I might prefer. A guide who’s going to answer calmly as I’m whimpering from the bathroom, concerned and unnerved. I don’t want to read a manual. I don’t want to watch a YouTube video. Someone who knows “no means no” and someone who will understand when I say “huh – that was fine but it’s not my thing” and not judge or try to trick me into trying just one more button, but someone who will ALSO tell me what to buy if it’s something I’d like to welcome into my Life.

Don’t everyone volunteer all at once.

A woman tending to a campfire in a backyard setting at night, with people socializing in the background and a cozy atmosphere.
Winding down Rivergig on Saturday, June 6th, 2026.

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