Posts under ‘TMI Thursday’

As Lilu says, “Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!”

Since I seem to be on a public bathroom kick lately, I figured I’d contribute a TMI Thursday post in this vein. Prepare yourself from some legit creepster stuff.

Here We Go

The scene begins a couple months ago. My friends and I have just finished dinner before going to see a show in the city (The City being San Francisco, pfft like there’s any other). We all need to tinkle, but two go ahead to the bathroom as three of us remain at the table to settle the bill. Once that’s taken care of, we mosey on over to the bathroom, where we’re surprised to find our two other friends are still waiting in line. Turns out the bathroom is tiny and contains just two stalls, only one of which (my friend informs me) is in use. Someone’s been in the other stall for a while, which we laughingly assume means this lady must be dropping the kids off at the pool, Michelle Duggar style.

The line speeds up a little as my peers and I are all expert pee-ers (see what I did there?). The first two friends to finish their biz wait outside. When I come to be next in line, something shocking and inexplicable happens. Out of the person-we-think-is-taking-a-poop stall dashes A CREEPY-LOOKING MIDDLE-AGED MAN, so lightning-quick that my brain struggles to process what I just saw.

I turn back to my unaware friend and state, “That was a man.” Now, mind you, we’re in SF. It’s not exactly crazy to have transgender or transsexual folk all over the place, so my friend hardly reacts to my statement, thinking I’m referring to one of these. But I just repeat, more urgently, “That was a MAN. Like A MAN just ran out of that stall.”

Then I get the confused WTF reaction I’m going for.

Suddenly I remember my friends waiting outside for us. They must have seen him too! I open the door to see their jaw-dropped WTF faces. My face responds with “I KNOW, RIGHT?!“

But get this — they were making those faces because just seconds earlier, Friend One had confided to Friend Two the following:

“OK this is kind of awkward but I think the person in the stall next to us was changing or something because you know how there are little gaps between the stalls? I didn’t mean to look through it, but it was such a wide gap I saw that the person in there was, like, fully naked from the waist down.”

So let’s piece this all together, shall we?

Man in stall. Naked from the waist down. Large enough gap that he could see through to the other stall. He was in there a while.

HO-MY-GA.

He was a Tom and he was definitely Peeping. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew.

We all freaked out more than a little, reported the incident to the restaurant manager, and tried not to think about it the rest of the night our lives.

As Lilu says, “Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!”

I peed my pants when I was 17 years old. Yes, seventeen.

Here’s how:

The scene (once again) begins with my mom, my sister, and I sitting around the dinner table like any other night. This particular evening was boring, nothing really to talk about, so all three of us were quiet.

Nothing but the sounds of breathing, chewing, and the sporadic screech of a fork accidentally grazing the plate.

Then out of nowhere, my sister looks curiously at my mom and says “what?” As if my mom had said something. Except she hadn’t. So my mom and I look at each other, then back at my sister, in utter bewilderment. Was she responding to the voices inside her head? My mom gets out “I didn’t say anythi…” before her fit of laughter starts. And we in turn bust out in uncontrollable giggly laughter. It wasn’t even that funny, but for some reason it just tickled my funny bone and I could not stop cracking up.

Which is when it happened. I tried to stop it. With all my might I tried. But I couldn’t.

Sometimes I laugh really, really hard. And occasionally during these hard laughing fits, my bladder is full. A recipe for disaster, I know, but how could I have predicted such hilarity would ensue that seemingly banal night? I was unprepared.

I try running as fast as I can to reach the toilet in time, but alas I realize too late — urine has already flooded my pants. Damn. The laughter from my mother and sister escalates exponentially at the sight. All I can think is, Really? How old am I? Then the cherry on top: my dad calls at that moment to check in. Breathless from laughing, my mom tries to explain what just happened. But then how could she? There are no words…