Tag Archives: bathroom

Classy…Maybe?

We (my band and I) played a show last Saturday night. It went extremely well, and the venue was spectacular.

Well…except one, teensy thing…

When I arrived, there was an hour before we took the stage. The crowd in the room was thick, and pushing my way through the steampunk-themed guests was a challenge.  Approximately 10 minutes passed before I made my way from the front door to the coat rack and then to the back of the room, where the stage was set up.  At that time, it occurred to me that Mother Nature was calling.  I glanced around the area and could not find where the restrooms were located.  I found someone who had been there since the event began and asked, discovering that they were near the entrance of the huge hall, from where I’d just fought through throngs of people to escape to the stage!

Well…it’s either fight my way back through the hoards or pee my panties…

So the challenge was on! I felt like a rogue, helplessly outnumbered, darting and squeezing through the crowd. Five minutes later, I was back to the front of the building, and soon, I knew, sweet release would come my way!

I ambled into the Women’s room, and immediately headed to the furthest stall. On my final approaching step, my foot slipped from under me!  Stumbling slightly, I did not fall to the ground, but that is how I noticed there was a puddle there.  I glanced at the water under my foot with momentary puzzlement, and then peered into the stall.  The toilet bowl was filled to the brim with water!  It had obviously overflowed at one point and the damage had not yet been contained.

FUCK!!! I’m standing in piss-water!!???  (At that moment, I had a flashback to the last time something like this happened to me: https://leahwould.com/2014/11/18/1321/ )

Nature was still calling at that moment, and I decided to put the fact out of my mind that someone else’s diluted urine was now on my shoe. I entered the second stall, and at a glance, re-exited a split second later.

This one, too???

A quick peek into the final open stall confirmed my fear—all three toilets were filled to the brim with light-yellow water and wads of toilet paper.

Oh Fucking Craptastic! I have THREE People’s diluted piss-water on my shoe!!!!!!!

I had to find a different bathroom, and fast, because if I didn’t, I’d be adding more UNDILUTED piss to my shoes…and the floor. I looked at the sink for a moment.

Hmm…that COULD be…NO! No effing way… I was NOT peeing in the sink at an upscale fucking venue!! Put the thought out of your mind, Leah! JEEZ!!!

I rushed out of the room and immediately reported the issue to the table of volunteers next to the front door. When I asked where a different bathroom was located, I received three bewildered stares.  These girls had no idea where another one was.  I’m willing to bet they were starting to panic, themselves, due to the fact that drinks were in abundance and they would likely need the facilities soon as well.

One of them pointed towards a man in a police uniform and told me that he might know where another bathroom could be found. I asked him, and his response was unexpected.  I figured maybe there was a single stall upstairs…or somewhere in the back of the building.

NO.

He explained that the bathroom I could use would be found in a different building altogether! I had to walk outside in the freezing cold temperature, while wearing my short, sleeveless dress and heels, to the end of the block, and into that corner building!  That is where I would find salvation.

OH! Is that all!!?

Not to mention I was still holding back Niagra Falls, because at this point, the entire can of Monster Energy Drink I’d slammed in under 10 minutes beforehand had decided to rear its ugly head in the form of “YOU GOTTA PEE NOW!!!!”

So I began the trek down the block. The temperature was bitter and the wind chill was even worse.

Well…at least if I piss myself, it’ll probably freeze instantly into a giant pee-cicle that I could merely chuck down that alleyway or something…

I arrived at the corner building, and walked into the front door. In the back of that room, I saw a group of ladies in a huddle, talking.  I assumed they were there for the bathroom, too.

“Hi! Are you waiting for the bathroom??”

They all gave me a knowing smile and said that they were finished with that single-room restroom…. But there was criteria to using it…

Criteria???? What?? There are bathroom rules for using the BACKUP Bathroom??? What the fuck??

One woman continued, “The water pipes leak, so you have to turn the water off after using the bathroom. It’s turned off now, so just turn it Lefty Loosy (Yes, she felt the need to tell me which way to turn it, as if I was some sort of idiot.) to turn the water back on, and be careful, because it sprays out a bit when you do that, and then when done, turn it Righty tighty!  Remember, Lefty loosy first, and then righty tighty when finished!”  (I am quoting this person.)

I nodded, but pretty sure my mouth was agape at the fact that not only was this bathroom messed up, but the way this woman talked to me like a child was seriously disturbing.

I entered the bathroom as the gaggle of women exited the building. Sure enough, as I turned the water on, there was a bit of a spray-back, but I dodged it.  I smiled, because FINALLY, I would have reprieve.

And I did….

As I finished, I heard another group of people walk into the next room. I made mental note to tell them about the water situation as I walked to the sink to wash my hands.

While distracted by my thoughts, I pumped the soap….IT SHOT STRAIGHT TOWARDS ME!! The soap’s aim was apparently NOT my hand that was poised underneath its spout, but instead, my dress and legs!!

I stood, frozen, for just a moment, with soap on the bottom of my dress and running down my leg!

Fuck!! I have to take the stage in thirty minutes, and now I look like I have a load of jizz all over me!! DAMN IT!!!!!!! And where are the paper towels!!???

Frantically, I look around the tiny room. After thirty seconds of sheer panic, I found refuge in a small cabinet.  I wipe my legs and frantically scrubbed at the bottom of my black (with a now-whitish spot) dress.  I can hear the people outside of the door becoming impatient.

I peered down at my dress, thankful that the lights onstage should hide the fact that there was now a guilty-looking spot in a not-very-inconspicuous place.

Fuck it.

I made my exit.

I gave a quick warning about the broken water and the soap monster, all the while not making eye contact with the new victims of the bathroom. Hopefully their luck would be better than mine.

Soon after this debacle, I took the stage, and I held everything in my bladder for the rest of the night.

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Liquid In Transit

It was a place I had never been before, and now that I had arrived, there was no turning back. The small door opened inward, and the first thing I noticed as I entered was the size. I imagined that if there was a closet underneath a small shelf inside of a loft apartment, that’s the amount of space that was permitted to me to do my business. I would not have messed with it, honestly, but since there were still 45 minutes until we landed at the airport in Ft. Lauderdale, and I had rapidly consumed three alcohol-beverages, no more waiting could happen.

THIS……this is what had to happen.

I was about to use the restroom in an airplane. My pee was to be scattered in the wind, high above the earth, raining down upon the unsuspecting joggers and dog-walkers!! It’s almost poetic.

(I know this isn’t really what happens, but this is how I imagine it happens, so let me have my dreams!)

As I turned around to shut and lock the door, I impassively noticed the “No Smoking” sign directly above the ash tray. A quick thought of “Oh, this plane must be old” crossed my mind, and shortly after “I wonder if older planes crash more easily than newer ones…” This thought came to me completely out of nowhere, and I banished it away as I dropped the trousers and sat to pee.

I’m not afraid of flying—I’ve never had a reason to be. The only thing I don’t like about traveling in an airplane is the lack of foot-room and the fact that the seats are difficult to fall asleep in. Turbulence had never been an issue, since I had never really experienced it…..

Until that very moment….

As soon as I sat down on the pot, the seatbelt light turned on and the pilot’s voice rang out saying that we needed to be seated and brace ourselves for a fuckin’ whirlwind of flight. (I may be paraphrasing a little bit on that.)

“What the hell do I hold onto!??”

Suddenly, I was taking a piss on a roller coaster!! I held onto the wall and searched for the toilet paper so I could escape this crazy, shaky box-room! When I glanced to my left, all I saw were Kleenex! They had to do! I pulled a couple out, wondering how they could NOT provide TP……

But then I saw it….it was BELOW me and to the left…..two glorious rolls of it!!

“YES!!”

As I reached, more turbulence made me lurch forward. My hand hit the toilet paper as my head hit the door, and both of the rolls both came flying off from their holder!

“Shit”

As my entire body was still being flung up and down then side to side, I chased after the rolls along the floor, while still keeping my butt planted on the seat, because I was in no mood to have leftover pee-dribbles creep down my leg. I finally was able to procure one roll and fasten it back to its home. The other became a rogue wanderer of the bathroom floor.

After difficulty (an understatement), I finished THAT business.

Pulling up my pants was a challenge, too….since we were still being jostled about, I kept being slammed into the door while ATTEMPTING to pull up my jeans.

Let’s just say, I ended up half-way falling a couple times before I was able to wash my hands at the world’s tiniest sink! I also fell a couple times while washing my hands.

Airplane Crew, I’m sorry, I ended up flinging water spots all over the mirror…and the walls…and the door…and my FACE.

As soon as I finished and exited the restroom, the plane leveled out and the ride was completely smooth.

ABSOLUTELY FREAKIN’ SERENE!!!!!!

I stood there, puzzled, for just a couple seconds and wondered if that whole thing was the pilot’s version of a joke.

I’m assuming, “YES”.

I Will Personify ANYTHING.

When I was 7 or 8 years old, I misunderstood what that button on the hairdryer plug was for.  I knew that it had something to do with the outlet and electricity, so automatically assumed that it was a dangerous button to push.  Even though I know better now, I still have my reservations when pushing it these days.

This morning, my hairdryer wouldn’t turn on.  I unplugged, re-plugged, pressed that little button with hesitancy…nothing.  I unplugged it, re-plugged it into a different socket, pressed that creepy button again…..AGAIN–nothing. 

I was left standing undressed, hair sopping wet, and no hair dryer….and I had to leave in 5 minutes for an appointment.

“CRAP!”

I threw the failure of a dryer back into its holding spot (aka the towel rack, because we have hardly any counter space in the bathroom) and called it names! 

“You’re a dirty dryer, and you FAIL AT LIFE!!!  Why can’t you just DRY, stupid dryer!!!”

(I also made some sort of nonsensical angry noises, in case the dryer doesn’t speak English.)

I’m pretty sure it smirked back and stuck its tongue out at me.  Obviously, my habits have rubbed off onto it.

Sighing at my bad example being picked up by lifeless objects, I had an epiphany!

There was salvation in my gym bag in the form of a teeny-tiny hairdryer, one that was originally made/sold for traveling purposes.  (Or, maybe it was made for small rodents after a rainy day….)

THIS THING SUCKS AT DRYING ANYTHING! 

But, it was all I had.

I cursed my other drying device, and went about the task of styling my hair with a brush and the squirrel-sized bathroom appliance.  I wondered if any of my backyard squirrels would like to borrow it sometime…it would be perfect for their TAILS.  Then again, they don’t have electricity in trees.  This thing is practically worthless.

About a hundred years later, my hair was dry, I was dressed and walked out the door to my car.

I turned the key.

Guess what else didn’t want to start this morning!!!  THE HAIR DRYER AND MY CAR WERE IN CAHOOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  There was NO OTHER possible explanation!!!

I felt frustrated; I also felt that someone should install one of those hairdryer buttons on cars, because generally they work.  (Just not today.)  I may be afraid to push it, anyways….

Luckily, the second try at turning the ignition key convinced my car that the hairdryer is actually a crazy bitch, one that no one should be in cahoots with, and it started right up.

“Take that, you stupid hairdryer!!!!!!  You just lost your PARTNER IN CRIME!!!!”