For the love of Poo-pourri . A public bathroom story.

I should just warn you now. This is going to be a little much for some of you.

You might have read the title and thought “Oh, she isn’t going to go there.” Oh but yes. Yes. I am.

It all started innocently enough. I rushed into the bathroom with a need to release my bladder or suffer wet pants. I stormed the main door and took an immediate right to see someone coming out of the first stall door. The perfect opportunity to snag a private potty with no wait time. Yes.

I apologized to the lady I nearly shoved out the way in my bee line. She was just exiting the itty bitty potty closet I intended to enter.

I remarked casually after my apology “perfect timing though, huh?” I said it more so to make things less awkward but it got worse.

She replied to me beyond the closed door as she walked to the sink. It took me a few seconds to process what it was she said ….

“I wouldn’t say so”

… she said it in almost in a sing song kind of voice. It haunts me now.

You know the tone. The one you use when you threaten your children in public places when and don’t want the general population to hear you become monster mommy. The sweet feminine tone you use when you want to appear nice but your saying something awful.

Then it hit me.

Not what she said but the stench. Oh. My. Glade. The stench of a fresh poo lingering with a 2 second spray of something sorta resembling old flowers.

I realized it all too late though.

I was already halfway into pee stance.

No turning back.

All I could do was hold my breath and hope I didn’t pass out with my pants down.

It hit me like a train. The fear, the stench, the sing song way she didn’t even warn me until it was too late. My thoughts raced.

It felt like that one time I fell down the stairs in 4 inch heels and got up quickly before anyone realized what I had done. I walked away like nothing happened, head low and drink spilled but dignity intact.

This time however I couldn’t just get up and run away. The next woman in there would think that I did it.

I needed a plan and quick. So while holding my breath I finished what I came to do, pulled myself together and did the only thing I could. I sprayed the crap out of that stall (literally) while the toilet was flushing so nobody would think I had to spray my own stink away.

Listen, I know poo stinks. I’m not saying mine doesn’t. Everybody goes number two. I get it. I’m just saying maybe make your “New Years Resolution” could should be to do the number two less in public. New year, new you kinda thing.

I’m talking to you, habitual office pooper.

Or at least poo less in small places.

Or maybe at least spray. Glade, Renuzut, Lysol … the perfume in your purse maybe?

Ok, fine. At least be a pal and issue a warning. We both know it’s the least you can do.

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