Poo Anxiety

I had my first sleep over with the new guy. We planned for dinner Saturday night and then to head to the beach early Sunday morning. I was in full panic mode as Friday night came to an end. I was telling my friend about my morning routine and how a house guest really throws a wrench in it.

My intestines and I run a tight ship. Every morning before I even take my first sip of coffee, I need to poop. My place is little and there’s only 1 bathroom, which shares a wall with my bedroom. I feel like there is just no way to hide what’s going on in there.

My friend suggested sending him out to the grocery to pick up beach nibblies, providing me the privacy I needed. However, that was not conducive to the roll-out-of-bed-and-get-onto-the-road-quickly type of morning we had planned. So, with rumbling bowels and tiny beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I got into his car and we were off.

Public pooping is even scarier for me than doing so in my own home with a guest, but I couldn’t wait to get into a stall. I made a mad dash when we stopped for bagels and coffee, but another lady was right on my freakin' heels. I couldn’t drop a bomb and then have her walk in after I was done. So I just let her go in and I left. Surely once we got the beach I could go there. But alas, we met up with his friends on a stretch of beach with no bathrooms. Just a port-a-potty.

He got his surfboard and headed to the water and I got a napkin and willed myself to do the inevitable. On the 5 minute walk to the blue outhouse, I had a pep talk with my butt like no other - the effects of which were quickly diminished as soon as I stepped inside. Who was I kidding? There was no way on god’s green earth I was gonna drop a deuce into a huge bucket like that.

I had a hard time forming sentences the rest of the day as I was trying to be a conversationalist with him and his friends. All I wanted was to be home alone for five minutes with all my doors locked.

I snuck off at one point while the 3 of them were chatting back at the friend’s beach house. Late lunch was coming together and it was a perfect time to run inside to the upstairs bathroom and make it happen. But at that point, my poor bung was in a deep depression. Sunday was a long day.