The Potty Shuffle

I suppose today could have gone worse. I could have not found a safety pin to keep my zipper together. Giving myself the standard nine minutes to get ready in the morning as I always do( yes I am still an eight year old and refuse to take morning showers) doesn’t leave much reaction time for morning mishaps. So this morning as I was pulling on my culinary pants way too fast, I happened to rip the zipper, let me stress again the zipper broke because I was in too big of a hurry and not because they were too tight… Anyway, these black pants are my go-to pants, I don’t have any other black pants that I could wear. I had to improvise and use the one large safety pin I found that was attached to the pool key given to me by the apartment office. The zipper is on the side of these pants so I figured it wouldn’t be a huge deal because the chef jacket I wear hangs so low. All seemed okay. A fifty minute commute to a Kansas City school and one large coffee later I arrived at my destination in an emergency -pee state. I did the potty shuffle into the office carrying my 32 bags of shit as usual, and signed the visitors sheet without even bothering to chit chat with the office ladies as they always try to do. I had no time for their games this morning. Finding the nearest bathroom I left my stuff outside and ran into the first stall. I then remembered the damn safety pin holding my pants up. Undoing a safety pin when you have to go pee like a race horse is as hard as undoing tight jeans in a porta potty after three too many kegs beers at a talegate. I’ve never quite understood the phrase “pee like a race horse” by the way, yet I often use it. Are race horses notorious for having to pee really bad? I mean I can understand that they probably get nervous before they compete, but has someone actually caught a horse awkwardly hopping or dancing around before a race? Or discreetly trying to hold itself? Anyway though, by now I am sweating and my hands are shaking trying to get the thing unhooked without completely ripping my pants. What seemed liked hours later, but was probably about 30 seconds, I finally did it. And this is when it got bad. In my rush I didn’t bother to look at the seat before sitting. Now all girls know to never, NEVER, make this fatal mistake in a public bathroom, especially a high school bathroom for that matter. Because the seat was wet. And this is the worst feeling ever. It feels like how I imagine it would feel to sit on a toilet seat with anthrax. Literally, I popped up off of it like there was anthrax, there might as well have been for all that I care. Rules of a public bathroom are simple : 1. Never go into a stall with deuces still floating, because there is a chance the germs could jump out onto you, even if you just look at it. Everybody knows this, that’s why when we enter a stall and encounter such an awful situation we quickly turn away like we just saw a fetus rather than bothering to flush, you might as well be safe than sorry. And #2. Always check for dribble on the seat. If there is a dribble, get OUT! If you’re drunk, a squat could suffice. Sure laying toilet paper down is an option, but then the wet just soaks through, or if you’re me, I can never seem to get the toilet paper placed just right and it just slides right into the toilet before I can even get sat down, kinda ruins the whole point of it. Yes, I suppose some places have the seat covers available above the toilet. But those are awkward too. Or maybe I just don’t know how to use them correctly, which makes me feel like an even bigger idiot, but why may I ask is the middle part attached to the outside? Like are we supposed to tear that ourselves and push it down? Or is it supposed to work as some sort of parachute catch or something? And in that case that’s just disgusting, I would rather my stuff go right into the toilet, no need for a brief detour, that’s just bizarre. Too much potty talk, I’m sorry. But you can see how upset this got me. And now what was I to do? I had let my guard down and sat in stranger dribble. It’s just so awful even thinking about it now. I’m assuming it was there from a previous squatter, but c’mon, have the decency to clean up your stray bullets for God’s sakes. Luckily, I managed to get control of the situation and was able to calm myself enough to go and perform my circus act like nothing had happened, but still, not good.
At least the weekend is almost here. I am just anxious to go out in Peker and have a few drinks with my friends. Yes, I said friends, other than Chris, even. The little bride-to -be Tyeler has been begging me to let her come here for a vacation, so I finally agreed to let her come stay just to get her off my case. I felt bad for her kinda, she lives in that awful state where it’s almost always warm and there is a boring old ocean- Florida. So I just told her that she can’t blame me if it’s hard for her to leave this little paradise known as western Kansas. We might also check out the Chiefs game on Sunday because they play the Jacksonville Jaguars. Tye claims she likes pro football all of the sudden. She’s such a poser.