I know what your thinking, what the hell is up with another piece about bathrooms already. I don’t have a bathroom fetish or anything that’s just been the luck of the draw. I mean compared to how much time I used to spend in there, I spend hardly any of my time in the bathroom anymore.

Its interesting when you look at how my bathroom time has gone throughout the years. When I was very little it was impossible to get me into the bathroom. I hated it and would spend as little time as possible in there. Unless my mother forced me too, I wasn’t going. Then sometimes I’d even just go in there, turn the shower on so it made noise and not get in. Then I just stick my head in so it looked like I got wet.

Then puberty hit, and I started spending a whole lot of time in the bathroom, and I mean a whole lot. The bathroom became one of my favorite places. Then I realized that how much funnier it was to not do it alone and my bathroom time declined. Then I discovered cocaine, and right back into the bathroom I went. I practically lived in the bathroom for a few years there. They could have moved my bed in there, but it wasn’t necessary because I didn’t sleep.

Now things are back to normal and I’m just a regular bathroom user. Now I hate being a regular anything, but this one that I can live with

The reason I’m writing about this today is because of an incident that happened yesterday at work. I’ve been working at this office for almost two months now. I really try to avoid having to take a dump at work as much as possible. This day would only be the 2nd time that the uncontrollable urge had hit me. Our office is in a building with a bunch of other offices, on each floor is a bathroom and you need a key to get into it. For my first three weeks I didn’t even have a key, but now I’ve earned the right to go whenever I want.

So I head on over to the bathroom and thank god there’s no one else in there. I know that I’m not the only one that when they turn that key just prays to god that its empty. Its just so much more comfortable that way. Our bathroom is rather small, it consists of one urinal, one regular stall, and one handicapped accessible stall.

I of course choose the handicapped stall. Your handicapped stall is basically the Cadillac of the public restrooms stalls. It’s more spacious, has some added amenities, and just provides a more luxurious bathroom experience I think. When your in that regular stall your just crammed in there like a can of sardines. I actually think they should change the name for the handicapped stall to the handicapped/fat people stall, because there’s no way lard ass is getting into that regular stall.

So I’m in there doing my thing and reading ESPN.com on my phone, when all of a sudden the door opens. My heart sinks and I think, dam I hope it doesn’t smell in here. The funny thing is the noise that follows, its like a sliding noise over the tile floor. Then I hear “crap, there’s someone in it”. I think what the fuck, use the other one and who’s this idiot talking to himself. Then there’s a response “it’s okay, we’ll just wait”. I think what the fuck is going on why are there two people and their both waiting for my stall. Then it hits me, oh my god, it’s an actual handicapped person. I hurriedly finish up my business, as I was basically done and just relaxing reading up on the Roy Halladay situation.

I then walk out of the stall and then notice that is an older man in a wheelchair with a younger fella, probably his son, hanging in the back. He immediattly shoots me this look of death. Its like a fuck you no handicapped person for taking the only stall I can use. I feel horrible. I go to the sink and wash my hands really quickly. There’s a sink in the handicapped stall, which is another benefit of it, but I didn’t dare use that one while the poor man was waiting. Normally I use that one and it’s great, its like you never need to meddle or associate with all those people in the coach bathroom.

What are the chances though. I don’t think I’m gonna stop using the handicapped stall, but I did feel bad. That poor old man’s steely look at me as I emerged from the stall with perfectly good legs, will always be burned into my mind. Mind you, our office is on the 2nd floor. Which doesn’t mean much, but he had to be visiting a lawyer, or some sort of personal finance guy or something up there. I’ve never seen anyone in a wheelchair anywhere on the property.

So what it comes down to I think, is just a horrible stroke of luck. Am I gonna modify my behavior at all, no. Why should I go and sit in that dam Hyundai stall just on the astronomical chance that this happens. Besides it’s already happened to me once, so I’m not due for awhile. All you other people, your the one’s that need to watch out.

Hopefully I won’t write about anything bathroom related for quite awhile, there’s never a guarantee though.