Have a Nice Flight

I thought that I hated nothing more than shitting in public bathrooms.  I was wrong.  I hate having diarrhea in public bathrooms much more than I hate taking a regular ol’ dump in public.  I’m not taking about some loose stool, either.  No, I mean when you sit down and wonder how you are pissing out your ass and then realize that it is not piss emanating in a stream from your body.  That is pretty much the worst kind of shit you can be forced to take in public, although at least there is no grunting involved.

Actually, I guess I would have hated piss-shitting my pants at the airport even more than I did in the bathroom, so I am lucky that things worked out as they did.  I knew that I had been eating poorly during my trip out here and that I would pay for it, I just figured my digestive tract would wait until I arrived home before it wreaked its smelly vengeance on me.  While I was riding BART to the airport, the rumblings began.  “No, please, not now,” I patted my stomach and begged.  It listened for a little bit, but as soon as I arrived at the airport I had to make a beeline for the can.  Not good.  After Mt. Vesuvius finished erupting, I used about a roll of toilet paper to clean my sad ass, gathering up my belongings, washed my hands, and went to check in.  I still felt a bit fragile, though, and hoped I’d make it through security before any other troubles exploded.

Fortunately, I was able to get through the metal detector without it noticing the lethal payload in my gut.  A quick walk to the bathroom later, the mini bombs were dropped over the target bowl.  I thought I should hang around a bit and make sure that business was truly done.  Despite the unpleasant circumstances, it felt nice to sit down.  Shitting up a storm can really make you tired, I tell you.

A woman with the ugliest shoes I’d ever seen (pink and lime green - like a psychedelic watermelon - with a little belt buckle and zippers on the side and slightly curled up toes entered the stall next to me.  I decided it was time to move on.  I cleaned up, washed up, spoke to Husband on the phone for a few, and bought some Gatorade.

Hopefully, the flight will not be turbulent…