Flushed with embarrassment
By Brandon Astor Jones
In prison, during shakedowns (cell searches), things like letters and such get misplaced and/or lost. The following bit of humour got separated from the envelope that it came in. I have no idea who sent it. Please read it and if you are the kind soul who sent it to me, let me know so that I can thank you properly. Meanwhile, forgive me for having lost your letter.
A little old lady planning a camping vacation wrote a letter to a particular campground to inquire about its toilet facilities. She couldn't bring herself to write the word "toilet", though, so she finally settled on the term "B.C.," meaning "bathroom commode".
The initials baffled the campground owner, who showed the letter to the other campers. They didn't understand either, until one of them suggested the woman might be referring to a Baptist Church. The owner agreed and wrote this reply:
"Dear Madam: Thank you for your inquiry. I take pleasure in informing you that a B.C. is located two miles north of our campground, and seats 250 people. My wife and I go quite regularly, but as we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, particularly during cold spells.
"If you visit our campground, perhaps we could go with you the first time, sit with you, and introduce you to the other folks. Ours is a friendly community."
[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the United States. He welcomes letters commenting on his columns. He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216, G3-77, Georgia Diagnostic & Classification Prison, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA. Brandon and his friends are trying to raise funds to pay for a lawyer for his appeal. If you can help, please make cheques payable to the Brandon Astor Jones Defence Account and post to 41 Neutral St, North Sydney NSW 2060, or any Commonwealth Bank, account No. 2127 1003 7638.]