Public restrooms can be a terrifying experience. I'm sure everyone has a story of when they thought the end was near and a toilet flush was their horror movie soundtrack.
Now I can handle public restrooms and the horror that exists within them pretty well. I credit this to my binge drinking career. Once you've found yourself face down on the most disgusting bathroom floor ever wondering if that's your vomit or someone else's but not giving two shits either way...you've hit rock bottom and feel a sense of camaraderie with Ms. Spears as she trolls gas station bathrooms barefoot.
Despite the fact that I don't have a sense of doom every time I walk into a public bathroom doesn't mean I enjoy the experience. Clearly I'd rather have some alone time when I'm releasing some type of substance from my body. And I'd rather not know that you ate some bad Indian food for lunch and your IBS has really fucked you over this time. But I honestly support the ladies that just let it all go and handle their business. I can deal with the demon noises coming from the next stall for the 2 minutes it takes me to pee, wash my hands in the hottest water possible and sprint the fuck out of there without even checking to make sure my dress isn't exposing my left ass cheek. But the ONE thing that cuts off my pee flow faster than a cop driving by when I'm popping a squat in an alley is what I like to call the "poo stand-off".
This happens at least once a week at work. They come up with a new way to shatter our hopes and dreams and drive us to suicide monthly. This month it's cutting off our bathroom supply. Now if I want to empty my bladder of the nine cups of coffee and two Red Bulls that I've consumed to keep myself from blacking out at my desk I have to walk to another floor, walk by every department left in the building and deal with the anxiety that the "poo stand off" gives me.
Let me explain this phenomenon. The poo-stand off is when two people need to drop a good old deuce but are waiting for the bathroom to empty so they can poo in peace. Now usually this strategy will work. The people around you will notice the dead silence coming from your stall and they'll hurry so you can have your "you" time. But then there are those times when you and another person are trying the same strategy. Not only is this awkward for the two pooers, but it's ten times more awkward when you're me, stuck in the middle of this war that no one can win.
Now I usually don't have a problem peeing. But when I walk into the middle of a poo stand off it's like my bladder gains a mind of it's own and the only thought is "Fuuuuuck this bitch we're holding out until this shit gets REALLY awkward". So there I am, sitting in dead silence, waiting for even a sniffle from one my comrades. Nothing. I will myself to pee. I imagine rain, waterfalls, sprinklers, hurricanes but still nothing. Somehow I've gotten myself involved in this and I don't even have a food baby to abort! Relief only comes when some unlucky fourth person walks in and the noise from their entrance gives my bitch of a bladder the courage to unclench. At this point the pleasure of peeing is gone completely. Now I'm just pissed off. I've lost 4 minutes of my life and I want them back.
This situation gets even worse when the people try to pretend they're not there. It takes every bit of strength that's left after internally screaming at my bladder to not yell "I saw you just put your feet up bitch!" That childhood game where if you close your eyes other people can't see you is not real. Oh and while I'm dashing hopes and dreams let me point out that there's no Santa Claus either. Your mother's waiting for your call.
Honestly, unless you take off your shoes before you go into the bathroom we know who you are. And we also see you drink a pot of coffee, eat a burrito for lunch and then practically sprint to the bathroom with sweat forming on your upper lip. Just do us all a favor black pumps and use the bathroom at Wendy's so I can stop drinking cranberry juice to prevent a future bladder infection.
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