Most Embarrassing Public Bathroom Experience

When I fist moved to Austin, I got a job at a shady call center. We were the only business in this large office building for a long time. So I pretty much knew everyone that worked there and I knew there were no handicap folks. Knowing there were no handicap people in the building, I would use the handicap stall for number 2. It was roomy and the lock worked better on that door than the others. After some time a new business rented out the other offices on the second floor where we were. I didn't know everyone that worked there. So one day as I was killing time in the handicap stall, I saw a pair of wheels roll up to the door. I could see the man reaching for the handle through the little crack in the door. He pulled but realized it was locked. I thought he might move on but he did not. He pulled several more times, shook the door, then banged on it.

The he said "That's not your stall asshole!"

I simply replied with a nervous fart.

Whether he or I was right or wrong. That experience was my most traumatic public bathroom experience to date. Until yesterday...

Thanksgiving was filled with junk food and laziness. It was awesome and as I have said before, quite possibly my favorite day of the year. However, this kind of sloth and gluttony comes with a price.

For the most part we eat very clean at our house. So when we introduce a high dose of junk food, the mouth rejoices but the body revolts. So for a couple days after, trips to the poo palace are frequent. The affects of the Thanksgiving mouth party last for days sometimes.

Yesterday I had to make a quick run to Tractor Supply Company for some pig feed. On the way I felt the familiar rumble and hoped that it could wait 20 minutes until I got home. As soon as I hit the entrance everything settled hard and it turned from a level 1 discomfort to a level 10 emergency.

I tightened up the best I could and did a little penguin walk to the restrooms. I swiftly moved through the unusual amount of customers there doing Black Friday sale shopping. Usually the store is fairly empty, but not today. Not this weekend.

I made it to the restroom. This is your standard public bathroom. 1 urinal, 1 regular stall, 1 handicap stall. I chose the non-handicap stall this time. The bathrooms are not tucked off in a little hall way though. The mens restroom door pretty much opens up to the tool box/tire department where many folks were shopping.

I sat down and began my business. Because of the junk food eaten prior to this, it was a bit more noisy than I would prefer. As I was in the middle of everything, I heard the door open and someone come in. I tried to cut it off for a moment as what was happening was vulgar and offensive. I just wanted to be polite. As I held off the attack, a few soldiers broke through the line.

Finally the guy left and I could get back to business. Basically it sounded like someone blew up 1000 balloons didn't tie them, then let them all go in the bathroom.

Things got pretty intense. I almost got a little concerned but finally a few more putters and I was finished. Thankful to have made it to the bathroom in time and to have lived through this experience, I left the stall to wash my hands.

When I opened the door to the stall my heart stopped. I stood frozen looking at a wide open bathroom door.

The motherfucker that came in, that I so graciously put things on hold for, had left the fucking door open................

I still had to wash my hands, I still had to go get the pig feed, I still had to walk through the store, I still had to go pay.

For the most part no one made eye contact with me as I left the restroom. No one wanted to even look at the loud pooping guy.

My face was red and my ears were on fire the whole time I was in there.

This blog is called "The ADVENTURES of..." so my adventures and life lessons are not always profound but sometimes just fucking embarrassing.

My Weird Thanksgiving Tradition

The Thanksgiving Day image created by marketing firms everywhere depict families and friends coming together over delicious food to spend quality time and reflect on what they are grateful for. Grandma sets the beautiful golden turkey at the center of the table and then someone else gets the honor of carving into it. The menu is the same every year and Aunt So 'n' So makes her famous whatever and everyone watches football.

In my experience the commercial image and the reality are greatly contrasted. For me growing up it was driving at least an hour to a family member's house. Waiting another couple hours for food to be done while the adults talked and I was forced to play with cousins and other kids that I hadn't seen in a year. Anytime a new adult passed me they had the same battery of questions for me. Then the food is ready, everyone awkwardly lines up to fill their plates. Then you search for a place to sit. I am left handed so this has to be done with a little strategy. Then everyone picks at the food while deciding on who will say grace. Then once chosen this person has the undivided attention of the house and God and takes you on an epic journey of a Kevin Costner speech of a blessing. It is long and wordy. For some reason whoever says blessing in my family start using words like "thou" and "thy" and the first 60 words are all the different names for God.

"Our heavenly father, Jesus his son, St. Peter the Secretary of Heaven and Ultra Marathon runner, the alpha and the omega, King of Kings, all time quarterback, Lord, God..."

During this most reverent time, the smell of delicious food you have been waiting for hours to eat is wafting up into your nose. You are trying to be respectful because God is in the house at this point but your mouth won't stop salivating into your green bean casserole.

After you eat you are stuffed to the gills but the fun has just begun. Now with a full stomach and heavy eyes you are still forced into conversations about "How you've been doing" and whether or not the Cowboys are gonna screw this one up.

Don't get me wrong. I know the food and conversation are all done out of love and most of the family is happy to be visiting with each other. I know this is a special day. I know this. But most times it ends with pulling together all the energy you have to say your goodbyes and then sleepily driving home...where you have wanted to be for hours.



For those that can't make it home to their families at Thanksgiving, the youngsters now have "Friendsgiving" to celebrate the holiday. Typically a dinner party held the weekend before or after the actual day, everyone prepares their favorite dish, and come together to be a surrogate family to everyone else. The pros of this one is that there is not usually a long blessing and the group is smaller. The cons are the menu is usually smaller and random and you are still super stuffed with food and forced to have conversations. When I was a drinker this was more tolerable.

Thanksgiving can be brutal.

Then years ago, I was invited to several Thanksgiving lunches and dinners. My heart soared with the Eagles at all the love. My brain however, shut down like I had too many windows open on Microsoft 98. When I tried to decide where to go I just go the same message. NOT RESPONDING

I didn't consciously make the decision, but I didn't go anywhere. I just stayed home. Upon realizing I didn't really have any food, I set out to find a store open that would have some sort of a good food selection. I bought a DiGorno Pizza, some chips and dip, ice cream and beef jerky. I went home, put on some Netflix and laid around all day eating junk food, watching TV and ignoring my phone.

IT WAS GLORIOUS!

So from then on, my new tradition was one that would raise questions, make people worry, hurt some feelings, and be my favorite goddamn day of the year. My new tradition would be to spend Thanksgiving at home and alone.

As I type this I can hear everyone's thoughts about how sad that is and how I must be kind of fucked up for even considering doing this voluntarily. I know the Thanksgiving dogma. It is a time for family. It is a special time to show your love and hugs and laughing and whatnot. Look I get it. It is that special time of year where families come together and bond...followed by the exact same thing a month later at Christmas.

So before writing me off as a weird misanthrope...hear me out.

The tradition runs deep in our culture. It is a day of family and dry ass turkey and telling someone that their dish was great even though you didn't see it so you didn't eat any of it. We put aside our regular lives for one day and reflect on what we are grateful for.

I just see it a little differently. For me it means long drives. Forced conversations. Too much food and not enough space to take a nap. Faining interest in football. Wanting to go home.

But the benefits are its the one day no one will call you. Besides the obligatory "Happy Turkey Day" texts you get, it is quiet. It is peaceful. No calls from co-workers, No emails from customers. The world is sort of halted by everyone pregaming for Black Friday.

Instead of choosing to lie to everyone about where I was going and what I was doing, I just decided to embrace the magic.

My tradition is Thanksgiving alone. (Now Thanksgiving Alone with my wife should she choose to do so with me)

The whole spirit of Thanksgiving is to overeat with immunity. Thanksgiving Alone isn't all fun and games. For months, I prepare a mental and written list of all the disgusting junk food I deprive myself of on a regular basis. Cheesy Doritos are almost always on the list. In the name of tradition, I get myself a Digorno just like I did that first year. Ice Cream, candy bars, root beer all make the list.

So on the Wednesday before, I go shopping.

Then the big day. I look forward to this uninterrupted day alone so much that I often get up early just to have more hours of peace and quiet. There is a strict no pants policy. Pajama or sweat pants are acceptable. Favorite blanket ready to go on the couch, then I indulge by renting some PPV movies I have been wanting to watch.

Reply to "Happy Turkey Day" texts.

In the old days it was a little harder because people couldn't or didn't want to accept what I was doing, so I had to assure some that I was fine and not preparing a dramatic suicide.

Then the phone goes away. See, I know on this day that customers don't want to talk to me. My boss is busy with his family so I won't hear from him. Once my family gets into what they are doing, they aren't texting. I ignore social media because its basically just pictures of food with the hashtags #blessed and #grateful added to the description. There is literally nothing to do, or that can be done on this magical day and all that is left is to sit in silence and enjoy the solitude. I am tearing up right now just thinking about it.

Then in the middle of movies I just prepare the cornucopia of junk food between cat naps under Mr. Blanky. The coffee table is a war zone littered with wrappers, empty drinks, and food to be grazed upon.

I see my family throughout the year. When Christmas comes, I typically make my rounds to see my parents, nephews, and Grandma. So I am not estranged from them. I am not boycotting the holiday either. I am just celebrating in my own way.

I avoid getting up early and starving myself until the turkey that was supposed to be done at 2 is finally done at 4:30. I avoid Thankgiving traffic. I avoid those awkward conversations with people that probably leave them thinking I am more weird than if I had just stayed home. Sure I miss Grandmas famous biscuits or whatever, but have you ever eaten Pecan Pralines and Cream Ice Cream on top of a store bought cherry pie? It is heavenly. I don't have to bite my tongue when someone inevitably brings up politics or my tattoos.

I just get to sit in my sleepy time clothes, watch movies, and not be bothered by anyone or anything. I charge my batteries and take full advantage of 4 days off. Then I drift off to slumber while others are preparing for the hideous tradition of Black Friday shopping.

No man is an island but I come as close to one as I can on that third Thursday of November every year.

Traditions have never been important to me. When you break them down, they often lose the spirit of why they started and turn into a chore. I don't think spending time with someone on a specific day of the year makes it anymore special than at other times. I practice gratitude every day. No I don't want to go around the table and spout off canned responses about what I am most thankful for this year.

I love my family and friends dearly. I want to nurture those relationships. But this one day of the year when it is guaranteed that I won't be disturbed has become my tradition. As my family grows, I will continue the tradition with them.

So before you invite me to your home for Thanksgiving, just know my answer will be "No Thanks". But not to worry, you aren't invited to my house either.  I will be on my couch if you need me, but try to save it until Monday.

Thanks