A Shitty Situation

Life is a queer phenomenon. All of us want to go to heaven but none of us wants to die. Before I mislead you in believing this will be a morbid article about the afterlife or being once again at the precipice of insulting the Catholic Church for being infinitely stupid. This article is far more serious and far worse than you can imagine. Recently I had an interesting discussion with a friend regarding small things in life that we found annoying and/or discomforting, and I realized that all of us have little embarrassing idiosyncrasies. And what we do in the loo is one of them.

Our toilet behaviour is a topic that we rarely discuss in social settings. No one wants to know about your bowel movements or lack thereof. But all of us takes a dump, and if you don’t you need to consult your medical practitioner regarding the fact that you’re literally full of shit. The one thing about bowel movements that I don’t like is when it happens in any location other than one of our three bathrooms at our house.  Personally, I prefer them scheduled for early mornings or late afternoons. I prefer them quiet, peaceful and solitary while reading a newspaper on my BlackBerry. You see, I find unscheduled bowel movements inconvenient and if I don’t have to I will not make a number two outside of my comfort zone area. Once I found myself all panic stricken due to bit of stubborn excrement that refused to flush away at a friend’s house. Knowing that I wouldn’t be pleased finding a little brown gift in my toilet after a friend has used it, I had “the battle of the turd”, the details of which are far too disgusting to labour over. Hence, I now absolutely refuse to make chocolate brownies at other people’s houses if it is not absolutely necessary. Let’s just call it one of my many lifestyle choices.

Making a number two at work is, let’s say for politeness sake, slightly less stressful. At least it’s a semi public toilet and if something refuses to vanish after you flush, you have plausible deniability. For me the problem comes in when I am not the only one there. Once I hear another stall door close my natural instinct says clinch! Normally I would try finishing my “business” quietly which is almost impossible to do if you had Mexican food the night before, but I would try never the less. A timely placed cough can conceal many an unflattering bowel movement sound. But, queerly enough, there are people out there (and you know who you are) who are less concerned about their bodily noises. These inconsiderate folk just let it rip sounding like an enema gone wrong combined with a rock slide followed by a putrid stench leaving you wondering what the hell they had for lunch and whether they are OK! All the while you’re gripping the sides of your stall gasping for air as it turns into a phosphorous gas chamber reminiscent of the holocaust concentration camps.

When it comes to public toilets I get seriously anxious. I once watched an investigative journalist program about germs and the amounts they found on public toilets’ door handles. I hyperventilate just sitting here thinking about it. At least at work you know the people using your toilets, their general hygiene and can estimate the amount of contaminants you have to battle. But public toilets are open to everyone - the business man, the crack whore, the cholera patient zero! Sometimes I firmly believe it would be better to rather shit yourself than entering some of the germ orgies that are out there. A couple of years ago I found myself in just such a predicament, contemplating rather soiling my pants than placing my perfectly clean cheeks on what looked like a blatant invitation to contracting hepatitis A B & C.

Hubby and I were on our way home from Egypt. The night before I ate some, what I found out 2 hours later, to be bad crab. I had a mild case of food poising and faced a 14 hour trip home and the notoriously unhygienic toilets at Cairo’s airport. My stomach was turning, I was nauseous and the hour and a half taxi ride to the airport was bumpy and a tedious torture. Arriving in Cairo, ten minutes out from the airport, I already was at the point of negotiating whether I was just going to shit myself a little, keep on holding it or just let it all out. I decided to hold it. Checking in at the airport was uncomfortable to say the least. Once past customs I rushed to the toilets. I entered a stall and was horrified to see the floor was wet, there was some stuff floating around and the toilet itself had a hose stuck in it and was filthy. At that point the shit it was coming! In one fell swoop I managed to cover the toilet seat with toilet paper, pull down my pants, press my feet against the stall’s door so that no part of my body was actually directly touching anything in there. I braced myself and then the flood gates opened. It was noisy, it was smelly it was EPIC!

The worst of the worst when it comes to toilets are those folks who deem it appropriate to talk on the phone while they’re passing yesterdays food through their very inconsiderate rectums. I, for one, outright refuse to answer my phone while I’m having royalty time on my throne. It’s just plain rude! This has happened to me before. I could hear the tell tale sounds of a lavatory while talking to one of my friends. Considerately, I enquired whether I was phoning at a bad time and he responded it wasn’t. Eventually he admitted to being in the loo and, to my dismay, confessed to be doing a number two. Now shitting should be a private matter and shouldn’t be shared nor be a bonding experience. I don’t want to see you do it, hear you do it or talk to you while you’re doing it. The only person with which this is rarely OK is my husband because, yes we’ve been together that long. Needless to say, I hung up the phone and washed my hands before I phoned him back after 15 minutes. I know there are some twisted people out there that poop on each other – it a sex fetish thing. I don’t get it, will never do it, and this is the last I will ever talk of it! It’s disgusting, unhealthy and I imagine messy. And the same goes for talking on the phone while on the damn toilet. It just ain't right!

Yes, our toilet behaviours are fascinating and we should talk about it more often. We all have our little rituals, preferences and aversions. There is no rule book for what is and what is not appropriate and/or recommended as it should be common sense. It’s just a pity some folks lack the latter. So the next time you retreat to your loo to unload some bodily fluids, I hope you remember this article, think of little old me, wash your hands and refrain from phoning people.

Till next time.