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Tuesday, November 10, 2009

A Number One Story

Tonight I attended a very productive writer’s meeting. There was an informative guest speaker who has written over seventy books AND I barely broke out in hives when it was my turn to speak. The night had gone well. When the meeting drew to an end I excused myself to the restroom.

Side note: I have a condition called interstitial cystitis that flares up from time to time. The medication I take turns my pee blue and when it begins to wear off, yellow and blue make green. Bright, neon green.

While doing my business there came a knock at the door. “Just a minute.” I said. When all was said and done, I attempted to flush the toilet…but the toilet wouldn’t flush. I jiggled the handle, waited a moment and tried again. Still nothing happened. There before me was a commode full of neon green pee that wouldn’t go away while a fellow writer stood outside the door awaiting my exit. What would they think? I couldn’t go into my colorful explanation with a complete stranger. They would think I was crazy, not to mention disgusting.

After an uncomfortable amount of time had passed I tried the handle again which proved fruitless. Nervously, I ran in place and waved my hands a little, but the pee stayed put. This led to the presumption phase. Someone was probably outside the door wondering what the hell I was doing. I hoped they didn’t think I was making a number two. What if they heard me running in place and thought I might be dancing? What reasonable person would be dancing in someone else’s bathroom?

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The hives were now full blown and speckled across my chest and neck. It was a guilty look. I zipped my jacket all the way up to my neck and opened the door.

Waiting there patiently was the hostess. I sucked up my fear and explained the situation while vehemently denying any lewd and lascivious behavior during my elongated bathroom visit. She graciously said she understood and that the toilet malfunctioned from time to time. My anaphylaxis slowly subsided and when the meeting ended I walked out knowing I had left my mark on the group, literally.

2 comments :

  1. Smiling with you, not at you. Had a similar um, issue, at a new job last year... but sadly, I didn't have the guts (or even the thought) to post it on my blog!

    You go, girl!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks, Tracy!! I knew I wasn't alone. Well, mainly I hoped.

    ReplyDelete