Thursday, December 1, 2011

By The Skin of My Teeth

makes me happy.

You know I'm a big believer in the Law of Attraction right?

Well I'm not sure what was attracting what on my subway ride home last night, but... there was something going on.

So I'm riding the train home with my good friend Vixen when all of a sudden Uh-Oh! My stomach bowels did the kind of flip you only hope they do when you are within two feet of a toilet.

Clearly I was not.

"Ahhhh Vix, I don't feel so well." I inform her.




And Vixen, who is by far one of the the sweetest people I know, acknowledges my distress and expresses her concern.

I assure her, through clinched teeth, that "I'll be fine, I'll make."

Not only a sweet, but also one full of fun stories, Vixen then proceeds to lighten my burden by telling me kooky stories about her mom knowing where washrooms are all over the city.

Which immediately gets me thinking about how my mother knew every single pit stop on our annual road trip down to Florida, "Bill! There's a Bob Evan's at the next exit!"

My empathetic bowels tighten. I'm barley holding on when I'm snapped out of it with Vixen's final words. In a hushed voice before she steps off the train...

"She's kind of loose."

Oh no! Laughing is not helping!

Okay Stacy. You're alone now. Just a couple more stops. Just get your mind off it. Think about something else.

What about Seinfeld last night. Ohhh, it was a good one. About casting their NBC pilot. The Kramer actor was hilarious. And then Kramer came in and auditioned to play himself. Funny. And then... And then... his bowels tighten and he had to make a mad dash for the washroom. Which was occupied. As were the next three he tried. There he goes, running through New York city, desperately looking for somewhere to...

Not good! Not good.

Just clear your mind. Think of nothing. Look at the ground.

A MCLATTE CUP!?! AHHHHHHH! McDonalds turns my stomach at the best of times let alone the idea of a McProcessed coffee.

Beads of sweat form on my brow. One stop to go. I begin unbuttoning my winter coat.

Please Kevyn. Please be waiting for me.

The doors open and I start running.

Nope. No running. To much bouncing.

Walking. Walking. Walking very quickly.

Up. Up. Up the stairs.

He's there! He's there! He's there!

I swing the door open. Kev leans in for a kiss. "I've got to poop so bad!" I yell.

"Oh baby! That sucks. Hold on!" I hear as my hero of the moment somehow manages to turn our 3 minute drive into a 1 minute one.

The car pulls into the driveway, I leap from it as it slows, leave my keys in the door and a trail of clothing all the way to the facility.

Because you know when you're in that kind of misery there's a good chance your lower half won't be able to discern the difference seeing the toilet and being on it.






I sit there curled over in agony and relief wondering, "What would I have attracted if I had had the fish?!?"

Damn you heirloom carrots and green and white asparagus.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

having the "fear" hit you in public is one of the most agonizing sensations ever. Unfortunately I've had them too often but fortunately enough I always have just made it. Thanks for being so honest and I'm glad you made it!