Those who know me well know that I am not afraid to do my business in a public restroom. This holds true at work, where I am quite comfy dropping an occasional afternoon deuce.
The maintenance woman usually comes around twice a day. In the last year or so, on more than one occasion, my bowels have scheduled a conference call with the City of Pittsburgh’s plumbing RIGHT before this poor unfortunate soul arrives. She rolls in with the cart, trying to click something on her phone, she typically goes about her business regardless of any stalls that may be occupied, but on this particular day she must’ve had a bug up her ass.
Ahem, sorry. I meant stick up her ass. HEYWAITAMINUTE…
So, back to me. I’m sitting in the second stall, going about my biznasty and expecting her to finish up any minute now. I see her sneakers shuffle into the stall on my left and she flushes the toilet. She then bounces to the stall on my right and flushes there, too. Then she waltzes back to stall number one where she flushes again. Then back over to stall three for more flushing.
Aaaaaaand back to the first stall. Flush. Third stall. Flush. Left again, flush. Right again, flush. Left, flush. Right, flush. Left flush. Right flush. ONE FLUSH TWO FLUSH RED FLUSH BLUE FLUSH HEY DO YOU WANT ME TO JUST COME BACK LATER TO FINISH UP WITH THIS COMPLETELY NECESSARY BODILY FUNCTION? K NO PROBLEM BYEEEEEEE.
I became so weirded out by the whole thing that I got my shit together (SO TO SPEAK) and got the hell outta there.
Which was fine because I also kinda had the feeling I was being watched, y’know?
Your turn! Tell me all about how much you love public restrooms because nothing weird ever happens there.
This is brillllliant. I once experienced gastrointestinal distress in a gas station bathroom and didn’t realize until it was too late that they were out of toilet paper. I used an Old Navy receipt instead. Definitely one of the grodier experiences of my butt’s life.
A Butt’s Life is my favorite Disney Pixar film! (Seriously, this story is the best.)