Friday, January 04, 2008

Rumble in the Jungle


Warning: The following post contains a detailed discussion about bodily functions. If you are eating, or if you are easily offended, do not read anymore. You have been warned.

I’m the type of person who can only pee in a public restroom. Sure I could do more – and I’ve been forced to do more – but I’d rather not. I don’t like for people to hear and smell what I’ve got going on in stall #2 (hah! Pun intended), but I will do it when absolutely necessary.

I say all this to say that recently my bodily functions took a turn. See, I had been hit with the normal amount of #1, but there was minimal supply in the other area. Basically, I had a problem that started with a big ol’ C and rhymes with ‘complicated.’ It wasn’t fun.

The worst part of my situation was that it seemed to get pretty bad during the work hours. I’d be filled with this overwhelming urge to go. But once I got into the stall, nothing happened. I’d take my mind to a safe quiet space and try to let it happen naturally, but still …nothing. It didn’t help that the Bathroom Chick (so named for her ability to be in the bathroom for several hours a day) was in the stall next to me talking on her cell phone about a very tasty egg sandwich she had the other day. (Using a cell phone in a bathroom stall is one of my biggest pet peeves. Yuck). I got frustrated, so I left.

Throughout the week I tried a variety of ways to improve my condition. (Note: it’s never fun to be looking at WebMD’s cures for constipation when your boss decides to hover over your shoulder). I felt full all the time and because of this, I barely had an appetite. Somehow, I got the genius idea that ginger ale would cure me. BIG MISTAKE. After one 12 ounce can of Schweppes, my stomach felt hard as a rock. Seriously. You could have punched me and hurt your hand. And yet the condition continued. I know what you’re thinking. I could’ve just gone to the store and bought cure. But that would’ve been too like right. And sometimes, I like to be complicated. But not consti…. Well, you know.


My situation lasted for a few days until it cured itself all on its own. Once again, I was at work. I raced to the bathroom, only to see Bathroom Girl there once again, on her cell phone and brushing her hair. I went into my stall and tried to wait for her to leave. I mean, a sista needs concentration! Man, she wouldn’t go away. She brushed, combed and practically curled her hair before I decided to put an end to it. Mentally, I went to my safe place and voila!!! Problem solved. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I heard Bathroom Chick whisper into her phone: “I’ve got to get out of here!” Fun times. Well, they are now that I’m cured. I haven’t seen ol’ BC in the bathroom since then.

5 comments:

eclat said...

Um, because of my Monk-ish qualities, I cannot do either in a public place. Although, when I worked for a bank, I had no choice but to pee in their gross bathroom.

I made sure not to come in direct contact with ANYTHING, during the entire ordeal. That place was like a petri dish.

Tha L said...

ooooweeee, now THAT'S a visual, sis. glad you're all better! LOL

Camille said...

that's sounds rough, lady! and LOL at bathroom chick.

Nicole said...

Happy your back to normal. And I DO NOT understand the whole talking on your cell in bathroom thing...nasty. You should inform her that every time the toilet is flushed, microscopic fecal matter can spread as far as 6ft up and out from the toilet...it's true.

Juicy77 said...

ewwwwwwwww! TMI
You should have called me though. I know all of the best remedies like:

- Almond Biscotti tea from Teavana. Make it strong and drink on an empty stomach. It's NO JOKE.

-And harvest grain & nut pancakes from IHOP. Mega fiber fo' yo' azz (literally!) ;o)