Lav. is a Battlefield

Nobody likes to shit in public. It's awkward and terrifying especially when you're already nervous about it and it happens to play out like this:

You're prairie dogging, turtle heading, checking the scene, whatever. You ALL know what I'm talking about. Not only is the animal inside of you ready to jump out, feral and bearing its claws and wild eyes. You also don't know how much longer you can keep the sure-to-be inundating waterfall of urine from leaking out and creating some sort of self-incriminating Rorshach test on your crotch that people will only interpret in one way: he pissed himself.

Frantically, (but coolly, too, so people don't know your struggle) you walk into the bathroom. The next step can be the determining factor of whether your life ends there in a less-than-epic blaze of glory or whether you get to continue your mission. You check to see if anyone is at the urinal. If yes, you immediately turn around, walk out and hopefully find some trash can that you can empty your vengeful bowels into as opposed to in your pants and keep some semblance of dignity.

If you see no one at the urinals, proceed. If you see feet dangling, indicating someone else has just completed the same mission, proceed. This often comes with a sense of comradery... or heightened angst and discomfort as nobody enjoys hearing the cacophony of someone else's asshole.

Finally, with great relief, you enter the stall... ONLY TO FIND IT HORRIBLY DEFILED:

Who would do such a thing to the porcelain throne?? If this happens, end your journey. Don't you ever try to mend this situation. It will only lead to regret, discomfort, and pink eye.

Let's say you make it. Your clammy swollen fingers fumble with the toilet paper as you attempt to rip the right amount to use as a seat cover - all the while fighting the urge to piss yourself. Pants down, cheek to toilet contact is about to occur when one of the pieces of toilet paper slips and falls in!! You silently - as to not disturb your bathroommate - curse the heavens and shake an angry fist. Once again you clumsily rip a piece of toilet paper, this time too short. Fuck it. You sit down.

Finally, it's happening. It's really happening and all of your dreams have come true! Your bathroommate ends his journey with a toilet-amplified fart and exits. Your body is able to relax and just when everything in the world seems right, you look up only to notice that there is another person there.

What the fuck?!? Your alarm that is the opening of the bathroom door never sounded. Bastard must have sneaked in while your bathroommate left. He approaches. Performing the most vile faux pas, he peers into your stall - for just a little bit too long.. An innocent maneuver of checking to see if the stall was occupied, you're sure, but you accuse him of more dastardly things. Eyes widened and mouth set in a stern line, you stoically continue.

Finally, the end. Your bend over to pull your pants up and at that moment, a noise sends chills up your spine. The noise of an automatic flush. A flush that is all too violent. Panicking, hands still on the waste band of your pants, still bent over, you shimmy away so that your ass doesn't get sprayed by the vortex. You've gone too far in attempting to avoid the maelstrom of shitty water and your bare, supple cheek bumps into the cool stone wall. Eyes widened in shock and face turned toward the toilet (who thought it would be a good idea to turn your face toward a toilet to protect your ass), one lone particle of water lands in your welcoming eye in dramatic slow motion, of course.

Nothing in your life has ever been more stressful. You even feel like you might need to wipe again...

You leave, a seasoned veteran of the unrelenting obstacles that go hand-in-hand with public restrooms. Strutting with a purpose and head held high, you feel confident in confronting the same challenge tomorrow.. but mostly you're scared shitless for your itchy eye.