My grandfather, Joe
Estrada, was a well-known carpenter in the Houston area who built many houses
over the years. Occasionally when things were slow he would work on apartments
as well.
One hot summer day on an apartment construction site, he felt the "call of nature" so he headed for the nearest porta-potti, which happened to be standing smack in the middle of a large open area. Unfortunately, once inside the heat became unbearable (did I mention this was Houston, in summer?), so he decided to prop the door open and let the breeze help keep the temperature down.
Finding nothing nearby, he went over to the trash piles and picked up a brick, then headed back to the potti. As he was about to re-enter, one of the other workers saw him and shouted, "Hey, Joe! You don't need a brick - they have toilet paper!"
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