Sunday, June 24, 2012

White Knuckles

White Knuckled is a term that all should know if they are ever to enter the sphere of Quimsical Audecdotes.  In fact, it surprises me that neither of us have blogged about it prior to this moment right here.  Alas, we haven't posted in a while and it struck me that this was something that I should in fact share with the blogosphere that reads this blog (THANKS, by the way!).

The state of being white knuckled, my friends, is when you desperately have to use the porcelain throne, however, social constructs do not permit you to excuse yourself to relieve yourself. I.e. you're in school (you must NEVER shit in school, nor any public place, as this post colorfully describes) or at a friend's home you're not comfortable with yet.  Not comfortable enough to shit in their home without the absolute knowledge that you will never be found out anyway.  If you are white knuckled you may be clenching your desk or the arm of your chair with supreme concentration, making your knuckles white with the strain of holding on.  Your fingernails if long enough may be digging into your palm, but your face will remain stony.  You must never betray the storm brewing down below.

There are two basic types of white knuckled: one where you merely have to take a normal pah-poo but you've been holding it in for some time and it needs to make its exit and soon.  You may be turtle-heading a bit, terrified of farting lest you release the nugget you're harboring against your body's will. This type of white knuckled is not so horrible, I suppose.  If you reach the point where you simply cannot hold it in any longer you may attempt to race to the bathroom (any form of white knuckled will result in an ass-clenched race to the bathroom) and quickly relieve yourself without drawing too much suspicion.  You may be able to do it quickly enough so that you will never be suspected of shitting, and, with any luck, they will have a little canister of air freshener for you to cover up any incriminating evidence. The second type of white knuckled is far more grave; it is when you have the dreaded explosive d. Your stomach gurgles, and you can feel it trying to escape you with every movement you make.  You may even have to bite your lip in concentration for this one.  My thoughts are with you. This state of being is a treacherous one; your body is threatening to betray you at every turn of the bowel. You cannot simply excuse yourself because what if someone walks in (if you're in a public restroom)? You'd have to silence them. And what would your friend think if you were spending a long, tumultuous time if the water closet? Sometimes all the air freshener in the world can't save you.

In the case of the second form of white knuckled, sometimes you just have to bite the dreaded bullet. I've done it, though, I can't tell you how many times in the dorm I rushed to the bathroom only to find someone there. I would instantly scream "NOOOOOOOOO!!" Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf style, clenching my knuckles in the air.  Though, if this should ever happen to you, this song by The Bravery should play in your head to give your situation the proper amount of drama and peril:

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