I’m betting most of you reading this are sans pants right now. The format of this magazine is perfect for the toilet and when running low on TP simply tear my column out and you’re good to go. With that in mind I think I might as well enlighten you with some of my more embarrassing toilet terror while you wait patiently.
We should begin where it all started. It was at church and by the age of six I thought I was independent and free to do what I wanted. I got the whole peeing while standing up thing figured out quick. Also I didn’t pull my pants all the way down. I used to laugh at those kids. Actually, what am I saying? I still laugh at those kids. There is nothing funnier than rounding the corner to the urinals and seeing a little boy with his pants all the way down totally missing the urinal. I headed to the first thing I saw which was the stall. I was quickly confused, embarrassed and wishing she hadn’t birthed me, as my Mom quickly joined me in the stall. I knew she had trust issues with me but that seemed a little extreme. I then realized my horrendous mistake when I heard a group of girls entering the bathroom and they were giggling. That’s when I wished I was either never born or invisible. I got my wish when I sadly and literally hid my bright red rosy cheeks behind my mother’s skirt and we quickly exited the toilet.
This whole incident was a personality defining moment for me and I forever knew hiding was a better option than facing the thought of losing face, in the toilet, so to speak. To say I was a wee bit gun shy was a bit of understatement. I still triple check toilets by doing walk-bys to make sure and enter where it says ‘Men’.
At a unnamed pizza joint near Millennium Park I was ‘taking a break’ from showing some out of town friends the Bean and all that crap. They were upstairs happily eating pizza with ungodly amounts of cheese on it while my break was totally interrupted by an employee who barged thru the stall door that I thought I had locked. This was also a high toilet where you have to sit and use your tippy-toes for balance which made it doubly embarrassing. He quickly went into the other stall and lit up a smoke. If that wasn’t bad enough then he broke every rule of toilet terror by saying he was sorry. You never speak or make eye contact. Then we can each go our separate ways and pretend nothing happened. Well I can’t pretend nothing happened since I’m for some dumb reason recounting it here which means I’ll have the twilight zone like experience of reading about my embarrassments while sitting on the reason for my embarrassment. Send your toilet tales of terror, if you dare to daves.debate@gmail.com
We should begin where it all started. It was at church and by the age of six I thought I was independent and free to do what I wanted. I got the whole peeing while standing up thing figured out quick. Also I didn’t pull my pants all the way down. I used to laugh at those kids. Actually, what am I saying? I still laugh at those kids. There is nothing funnier than rounding the corner to the urinals and seeing a little boy with his pants all the way down totally missing the urinal. I headed to the first thing I saw which was the stall. I was quickly confused, embarrassed and wishing she hadn’t birthed me, as my Mom quickly joined me in the stall. I knew she had trust issues with me but that seemed a little extreme. I then realized my horrendous mistake when I heard a group of girls entering the bathroom and they were giggling. That’s when I wished I was either never born or invisible. I got my wish when I sadly and literally hid my bright red rosy cheeks behind my mother’s skirt and we quickly exited the toilet.
This whole incident was a personality defining moment for me and I forever knew hiding was a better option than facing the thought of losing face, in the toilet, so to speak. To say I was a wee bit gun shy was a bit of understatement. I still triple check toilets by doing walk-bys to make sure and enter where it says ‘Men’.
At a unnamed pizza joint near Millennium Park I was ‘taking a break’ from showing some out of town friends the Bean and all that crap. They were upstairs happily eating pizza with ungodly amounts of cheese on it while my break was totally interrupted by an employee who barged thru the stall door that I thought I had locked. This was also a high toilet where you have to sit and use your tippy-toes for balance which made it doubly embarrassing. He quickly went into the other stall and lit up a smoke. If that wasn’t bad enough then he broke every rule of toilet terror by saying he was sorry. You never speak or make eye contact. Then we can each go our separate ways and pretend nothing happened. Well I can’t pretend nothing happened since I’m for some dumb reason recounting it here which means I’ll have the twilight zone like experience of reading about my embarrassments while sitting on the reason for my embarrassment. Send your toilet tales of terror, if you dare to daves.debate@gmail.com
