Laughs Keep Coming Part 3

I remember as a child having an aversion to using public restrooms. It may have stemmed from an incident when I was about 10 at a local department store known as Westons. I had to go soooooooo bad and the restroom was out in the section between the two sets of entrance doors. So my mom sent me out but stayed inside the store where she could see me. I rushed in the door and saw some things I'd never seen in a restroom before. But never having visited public bathrooms I just figured it was something for the public, other than me. So I went into the stall and quickly relieved myself and stepped out the door when I got an instant education on what those odd contraptions were; yes, I'd gone into the men's restroom! I'll bet the guying using what I learned was a URINAL was rather surprised, too. I wish I could say this was the only time this ever happened but I cannot...See final paragraph for details.

I was not and STILL am not comfortable using public or other people's restrooms. My children don't seem to have that affliction. In fact, they both seem mildly to wildly curious about foreign bathrooms, especially at restaurants. When a Bob Evans restaurant opened locally we were pleased since both kids would rather eat breakfast foods in the evening than in the morning. Our first trip there Sarah must have been having some intestinal issues because we were IN that bathroom more than we were out. On one trip in another stall was already occupied. I'm just standing against the sink waiting for Sarah when I hear someone ralph. The sound bringing the food up is terrible but the resultant splash was just plain nauseating. I started praying Sarah would get done soon. She did not and I had to stand there listening to some poor woman continually refunding* her meal. Now at some point I'm going to start vomiting or laughing. You can imagine which one. If you can't imagine, let's just say there were no refunds for me.

I'm establishing a brief history of restroom experiences to lay the groundwork for the first day of my Senior year of high school. The only reason I would go into a restroom at school was for the sole purpose of checking my hair. (This was the Farrah Fawcett years.) So I'm fluffing my hair when I hear the loudest, longest fart I'd ever heard. (And my father was the "Pull My Finger King".) I froze mid-fluff, knowing I should clear out of there immediately. But, no, another person came in so I had to wait it out to make sure that person KNEW it wasn't me that made that sound or caused the noxious odor. It was someone I knew and not a few seconds later another atomic fart was discharged. By then I was trying so hard not to laugh I was crying- messing up my eyeliner- and my nose was running. We both got out and leaned against the wall laughing. I never did discover who was in that stall and I certainly hope I never entertain anyone in that capacity. Having a good friend who was the Fart Queen I'm not sure why this was especially funny? Maybe it was like the unknown comic who wore a paper bag over his head. It was the unknown farter.

My most recent trip into the men's room occurred in the early 90s. I was at a breakfast conference at the Bel Aire Hotel. It's the Avalon Hotel now. Having knocked back a few coffees I really needed to visit "the necessary" during our break. But being in a large dining room with a few hundred women I knew my chances at being first in line were bleak. So my girlfriend and I were going to look for some other restrooms farther away when I said, surprised, 'Look there's no line." and in I went. I came out and my friend was doubled over laughing. Excited I asked, 'what?', dying to be let in on the joke. My friend said I'd gone in the Men's Room. I said no, I saw --men when I went in but just assumed it had a w-o- before it. She said she stopped a guy from going in! It was kind of her to spare me any embarrassment because she embarrassed the heck out of me when we were leaving Andy's Pub one night and announced to everyone we passed, "She needs a pad." and pointed at me. Oh, I do miss Maryellen at times...

I know some folk are offending by this sort of humor but even today I can't NOT laugh when I hear a toot.

Hormonally yours,
Peg

*Thanks to my friend, Jamie, who used this word when describing her family's week.