Etiquette.

As I get older, I find that more and more, I come close to shitting my pants. This is a new thing, as I used to not have to deal with this issue. But lately, it has become a huge problem. Or to bemore accurate, I have decided I have less of a problem with this particular problem.

I used to never, ever be able to take a dump outside of my home. Then I got to the point where I could, but only if it was a bathroom with about 80 stalls so that anonymity was assured. Also, I would never ever discuss this type of thing with anyone, EVER. I was creepily secretive about it.

Until an old friend named Katie however, once casually said that she could care less and would shit anywhere shamelessly. She has IBS so I guess that contributed to it. She even copped to taking a dump in the Siberia bathroom. The OLD Siberia, the one in the 1/9 subway. I was amazed and had total respect, but did not think I could be so bold. Another friend, Jane, would have to shit before our frequent performances and did so in a bathroom that was in the middle of the busy UCB box officeat the old 161 W. 22nd space which was closed off by a shower curtain. Again, shocking to me, but I was impressed.

Well, years have passed and after having an ex-boyfriend who was similar in that he had to have total privacy was open to admitting that things sometimes "happened", I just loosened up (so to speak). Now I'm not nuts about the whole anywhere will do concept, but I have developed a kind of defiant attitude about it. Plus, I get flu-like symptoms at the onset of every cycle which have increased in their intensity as I have aged. Again, I used to have bowels of steel, but no longer. I had to evolve, to adapt, so to speak.

A proud moment was when I, with out shame, used the bathroom at a small bar pre-show. It was not a traumatic episode, which helped make it less scary. I was officially over it!

Which leads me to today. I had coffee at breakfast, tea at work, soda at lunch, and was working my way through another cup of coffee when I realized there was a time sensitive issue to be dealt with due to excessive cafienne consumption. And it had to be dealt with as in NOW. I couldn't find my pass that would scan me into the gated hall that led to the anonymous women's stalls, so I had to scamper up three flights of stairs to the two roomy but less private unisex handicapped access stalls there- all the while hoping that one would be open as there was no way this was going to end well if it wasn't. Both were available thankfully, so I yanked open the first door and saw a janitor's cart, which meant that said janitor would be revisiting and I'd surely be detected. I ran to the other one, and not a second too soon.

I popped out, hands meticulously scrubbed and meaning to dash away from the scene of the crime lest I be implicated. and that's when the horror took place; my co-worker was LURKING and immediately dashed in after GREETING ME. THERE WAS EYE CONTACT! Plus she had been waiting a while it seemed as someone had occupied the janitor cart-ed stall, too. I wanted to die. Even thought there had been mercy flushes galore, my wake was not pretty.

As I sit and type this, I feel that I must implore you, faithful reader, to always ALWAYS show decency in such a situation. If someone is lingering in a stall, you should just go away and come back. If there's a situation where you can't (as in my aforementioned 3 alarm fire) then I suppose you'd be in less of a position to judge. But in this case, I was scandalized. So I beg of you- show some bathroom mercy!

Now I will curl up and die under my desk.