Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Coming out of the (water) closet

The first time I had an incident, I was 4. I vaguely remember telling my mother that I had decided I would go to the bathroom standing up...."just like my friend Kyle." The declaration came after a very private conversation between myself and Kyle. Crouched behind our babysitter's couch he told me that he "went potty outside. standing up." Um, WHAT?!?! HELL TO THE NO. I was outraged. This seemed more unfair than having to take a nap in the "girl's" room. I wanted to go to the bathroom upright. It seemed so much easier. And more convenient. Of course, this was well before I understood the workings of biology. But my mom humored me and thus began Phase One in the long history of bathroom incidents.

Phase two was the privacy phase. I would rather cower in my sleeping bag at slumber parties with my body filled to the brim with fluid than go to the bathroom at any friend's home. The reason? I was horrified at the thought of a male stumbling into the restroom on me. I didn't have brothers. I didn't live with my dad. I guess I just assumed that males barged into bathrooms without knocking. I would later discover a horrible irony.

Phase three was the safety phase. This girl wasn't about to sit her bottom on a dirty, public restroom toilet seat. I think I went years without seeing the inside of public restrooms. And if I was forced, it was two toilet liners for me. Then I read an article about how you were more likely to get some sort of disease from the faucet sink than the toilet and I moved on....

Phase four was the gross out phase. I had a very....um...free??...college roommate. And for some reason she could only go to the bathroom when I was in the shower. Didn't get it. Still don't. But I do get that I don't get down with that. Nope. You are not allowed to do things on the toilet when I am showering. You know why? Because that's gross. GROSS. We had to have a come to Jesus. Also in the conversation I asked her to stop leaving globs of toothpaste in the sink. You know why? Because that's gross too. Both behaviors stopped, yet, I have no doubt that her husband can never take a damn shower in peace.

The current phase is the confusion phase. No matter how many times I check the sign on the door or use the same restroom, whenever someone enters the bathroom when I'm in the stall I have the horrible thought that I am in the wrong bathroom. I immediately check under the door to make sure the shoes are those of a woman. I have no idea why this is...I have used the bathroom in my office building at least 500 times yet I always have the fear that I'm in the men's rest room.

Yeah...weird. But at least I'm not sitting upon 40 toilet seat covers. Or worse...standing up.


4 Comments:

Blogger Sarah said...

haha how funny...i once had a roomate who would go to the bathroom w/ the door open, and when i asked her if she could shut the door, she acted like i was the crazy one, she insisted that this was a customary procedure, after much go around, i made her see how ridiculous it was...:)

Blogger Kourtney said...

Reading it for the second time, it still made me laugh so hard that I almost had an "accident" ;)

As I told you when I read it, my comment to you is that my first accident that I can remember was on your friend Ryan's tree house. I didn't want to go home b/c I was afraid to miss something...I am also sure that I asked you if you would walk me home and you said no! (Okay I might have made that up but it sounds like something that might have happened!

Anonymous peter said...

So what was this horrible irony? I hope it was better than your female roommate barging in while you were in the shower.

Blogger kristen said...

nope, that's it...women barge into bathrooms...not men.

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