Adventures in irritable bowel...
Ever try to hold in some nice diarrhea while also trying to empty your bladder? Next to impossible, but I supposed it makes for some laughs...from other people.
So I go into the men's room, running to another meeting, needing most urgently to let that burrito out, IBS-style, and also needing to pee like a racehorse, where of course both stalls are occupado. I think quickly...I can survive the meeting with diarrhea because sitting helps plug that up...it will be a mad dash to the bathroom afterward, but at least for that hour I will just be in discomfort, bowel-stretching discomfort, but doable. But I had to pee so bad I knew I would end up flooding the dance floor, so to speak. So I stood at the urinal, unzipped, and proceeded to go through the weirdest dance known to man.
See, you can't really pee, if you desperately have to poop. It just can't be done. Well, to be clear, it can, but it goes something like this.
First you relax that good ole pelvic floor just enough to get the flow going, push a little so a reasonable amount gets out under pressure so you don't piss all down the front of your pants, and before you have to close up the flood gates. So you get a nice healthy squirt, then shut things down quick! Then you gotta hold on while it all rolls back up the old chocolate river and resets so you can do that again. In the meantime, that **** hurts, literally, so you get a little cramp followed by the unsettling feeling of liquid poo roiling around in your guts until it settles back down. This draws a fully involuntary grunt, like a baby pig, followed by a moan not unlike a cow getting a prostate exam. But I am gonna be late, gotta hurry. So we do it again. Let a little out, rolls back up, grunt like a pig, moan like a cow. Then the dance progresses as you get into a nice rhythm. Squirt, hold, grunt, moo....squirt, hold, grunt, moo....squirt, hold, grunt, moo....and you don't even realize what is happening until you hear the stifled giggles from both of the 2 stalls and realize someone is enjoying your little symphony of misery, So you try to speed up the pace. Now you are leaving the barn door open a tad too long, the risk of overflow is great, so you swear a little under your breath. So now you get squirt, hold, grunt, moo, "dammit"....squirt, hold, grunt, moo, "dammit". You go through what feels like, you know, a full year of this, until you feel you have moved enough out of your bladder to avoid a full five-alarm emergency later, and, amidst the muffled giggles in the stalls, you zip, wash, dry, and waddle to the next meeting, hoping the inevitable soak-through in the heart of your *** is only dime-sized and not looking like an elephant footprint in the mud.
Fun times.
