Chip and the Germy Rapist

FAIR WARNING: POTTY TALK AHEAD!

Does everyone have a small or perhaps large hang up about public restrooms or is it just me?   I have a “shy” system… so I do my best to be absolutely alone in the restroom. Having Crohn’s did not make me this way; I was always this way…

As a child the family was on a road trip to somewhere and made a stop at those wonderfully clean and inviting rest stops! This one in particular was so welcoming, and “environmental” so much so that I actually had no choice of stall with a functioning door and was quite alarmed to find myself sitting (before I really knew the powers of the “hover”) in this little stall in the back of the restroom hoping no one else would come in… I knew enough at that point in my life that having no locking doors between you and your privates was no bueno… but there in the little stall with chipped green painted wood dividers and as mentioned no door, I found myself eye to eye with a squirrel. I do not mind squirrels so much; they seem kind of cute and have those oddly bushy tails. This squirrel I did mind. He, she, it… was sitting there watching me. I saw where something probably this squirrel had pried open one of the very lovely chicken wire windows and scurried in to observe the bowel habits of humans.

I decided that this squirrel was probably some super powered squirrel with behemoth strength. As we both sat there completely still sizing the other up; it was blocking my way out and I felt as though it thought I was on his turf. I say him because like everything I came or come across in my life I name … I called him “Chip” as in Chip and Dale… YES I know they were chipmunks now, but I didn’t really understand the difference or give it much thought as I desperately tried not to move or release anything from my body given the squirrel might not like my usage of his facilities. So there I sat. Staring, Chip at me and I at Chip. Chip did not move a muscle either; I assumed he did so because he did not want his secret strength to be revealed. My mother finally came searching for me because I had been gone half an hour and she had started to worry if I was okay. Of course as soon as Chip heard her calling my name, his other super power of lightning speed was revealed… she never saw him. When she finally found me tucked away in the back stall I now had another being staring at me… this one now furious that I didn’t answer her when she called and was just twiddling. I tried to explain Chip to her as she stomped off and told me to hurry the hell up. Once back to the safety of the car, I could see Chip sitting in the grass just outside of the shelter; I could feel his little beady eyes on me, plotting the demise of the world. I attempted to tell my tale of Chip and his super powers to my parents only to be shushed and have it brushed off as a tall tale.

Crohn’s only made this aversion to public rest rooms more traumatic because now they are unavoidable. I have to use them; sometimes immediately. I find it mortifying to come flying into a bathroom only to find that the middle and statistically the dirtiest stall in the entire room open and that someone hasn’t flushed or peed all over the seat. Gentlemen you may think that a woman’s restroom is clean and orderly and nice… but trust me when I tell you they are usually pee soaked nightmares behind the stall doors and a huge watery mess at the sinks. The only time I have enjoyed a restroom was the one time in Great Britain I had the honor of using the water closet at Harrods and there was an attendant ready and waiting. (Wouldn’t that be the worst job?) Then it was hard for me too… pre Crohn’s but still there is this person sitting out there in the country known for manners and decorum and I am about to go rip one in the stall. I tried the flush and go… so that they wouldn’t hear me but that did not work. I think she caught on because the water started running and I finally relaxed enough to take care of business. As I emerged, maroon from head to toe with embarrassment she politely said “Just warming the water for you Miss, it takes some time with these old pipes.” Then I felt even worse because she knew what I knew she knew… As I washed my hands and went for the door I heard her quietly rise from her seat and spray some air freshener. I could have fainted. I just told myself it was standard procedure… and prayed to God I didn’t ruin the poor lady’s day. Enough about that… because I do not enjoy reliving that…

I noticed the other day as I scooted into a restroom in a building where my doctor’s office is, smiling to find it empty and the last stall clear and clean-ish… I always use the very first or very last stall because I read a study that examined the cleanliness of public restrooms and found those stalls to be the least used and typically the cleanest. The closer to the middle you get the nastier it gets; word to the wise. So I find myself there with the hopeless little piece of tissue paper seat cover they give out; I find the only thing these are actually useful for is to discover hidden spots of “water” I question their ability to save me from someone else’s creatures. I have hung my purse and secured myself, and have only just sat down to deal with my issue and in stomps someone. Silently I pray they take the first stall. Clearly my feet are visible underneath the stall… BUT this is never what happens. Have you ever noticed that people seem to be drawn to the stall immediately next to you, especially if you have a shy bladder? So this woman stomps into the stall next to me slamming the door and causing the entire stall system to wobble. She sits down and starts grunting like a boar in heat. For a moment I am worried she might be giving birth.

Then the noise erupting from her stall proved to me why I NEVER like going with someone in the restroom. Not even a courtesy flush… Sweet tea and baby Jesus I thought I was going to pass out. Why when you have to poo do you go sit next to someone? Do some people feel this is a bonding thing? My dog seems to think it is, and will sit at the door and whimper until I let him in and there he just stares at me; that creeps me out… but I love him so I have gotten sort of used to it. I have been able to train him to look away at the door which helps. I digress.

When you have to relieve that much and make that much noise doing it would you not want to be as far away from humanity as possible? Does anyone think it is polite society to come in and drop several deuces, whilst grunting, and I will mention hollering (yes she was yelling to Jesus) maybe she had eaten Taco Bell. I do not know and I naturally did not ask. I was thankful she did not need toilet paper. At one point I think she was kicking or hitting the stall door or walls… I am not sure. Normally I would have laughed but I couldn’t breathe. She did finally leave and I had to Lysol after she left. Yes, I do carry travel sized Lysol with me in my purse… you just do not know what is lurking in these public restrooms. I decided whatever she had might be catching and I did not need that mixed with my Crohn’s and dear Lord… Still it got me thinking about why people seem to do this. Does this happen to any of y’all? Or am I the only one that people seem to want to take the dump of their lives next to? Seriously? I find it disturbing and worse still painful because I am trying to hold mine back whatever I have to do out of my sheer shyness… politeness? It never fails though I can be alone in a movie theater bathroom with something like 78 stalls and in the last stall… guess where the one person who comes in sits?

It is worse when they have a child with them. I once had a kid slide under a stall, look up at me and ask me if I had to do number one, number two, or was I doing number three. God knows what his mother was doing but she wasn’t watching her child… now I was. I have no idea what number three is… and I do not want to know. The mother who is sitting in the stall the size of a large shoebox finally notices that her son has slid under the stall and is attempting to carry on a conversation with one very shocked me… and she only fusses at him for being on the floor of a bathroom! No hey lady I am so sorry my kid is staring at you and your bits and questioning your business…. But instead he is only chastised for getting germy. I do not about any of you, dear readers, and your upbringings but my mother would have beaten the ever living snot out of me for moving much less crawling around on the floor and worse still into another stall to talk to another person. 77 other stalls… and they choose the one next to me. Go use the baby stall and strap that kid to the changer…. I don’t care, but if your toddler has a propensity to slide under stalls and check out other ladies I think that is an early warning sign of a rapist. Just saying.

Please let me know if you have ever had anything like this happen to you… or if you have noticed this issue of people wanting to sit next to you whilst taking care of bathroom needs.

PS: The “germy rapist” chap and his momma did not wash their hands. So much for germs huh lady?