Single Person Problems

I can honestly say that the person that I’m most angry with in life, actually it’s not a person it’s a group of people. Although these people as a whole have no national holidays, no dialect of their own and no distinguishing features if you were to see them on the street so I don’t think it is racist. For me it’s that guy that’s in stores in the single person bathroom for an hour. I assume he’s in there either peeing out the Nile River, dropping a deuce the size of the Statue of David or on the phone with a long lost love. I would pray it wouldn’t be a combination of the third one with either of the first two. Because as the person waiting for the bathroom it always escalates for me the same way. First, you just stand by the door like you’re in the secret service where apparently the president needed some stuff at a gas station in New Hampshire. Then, I start pacing back and forth like the Queens’ royal guards. I think the reason why I’m irritated with single-person bathrooms is because I never bother to head toward a bathroom until it’s a Code Brown emergency. It’s just not that high up on my priority list. If I’m watching a football game and there’s a mildly funny commercial on TV, I’ll pee my pants. So every time I’m headed to the bathroom, it’s a dead sprint! I don’t know why but if I’m mid-conversation with someone I can never just be honest and say pardon me sir, but I’m feeling the early onset of the symptoms of a particularly painful bowel movement, I’ll be back in an hour. Because you can never just tell someone “I got to crap!” I’ve been hanging out with girls for years and every time they stand up and announce the fact that they are going to the bathroom it’s always “I have to pee!” And I’m not a numbers guy, but I’d say roughly 50% of the time those girls are lying. Heck, we even had to come up with code words, number one and number two. I’m convinced that those nicknames originated in the first fast food joints. Just two guys struggling with the Salmonella infested, indigestion initiating food options. Sitting on the toilet crying with their head in their heads like they just killed someone and they’re trying to figure out what to do with the body. And one guy just leans toward the edge of his stall and goes “Was it number one or number two?”