Something happened to me the other day that threw me off my game. It wasn’t something rare or unbelievable. No, it might have even happened to you. It just seems that you find yourself in a situation where it’s a lose-lose. Nothing good can come out of it.

Before I tell this story, know this: I dislike public restrooms. Not so much the filth, just the interactions. For example, you’re standing next to a guy and both of you are peeing. You don’t talk because, you know, both of your d*cks are out. All you can do is look up at the wall. You’re not staring at anything in particular, you’re just not trying to look down or anywhere in his vicinity. There is an awkward tension that fills the room. It is quiet, all you hear is the streams of both of your piss crashing into the ceramic outer shell of the urinal. All you can do is wait it out until you can zip up and wash your hands. If he shifts his leg and slips out a vocal fart: may god have mercy on your soul.

Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. This particular occurrence is complicated beyond belief. I was at this new trendy restaurant as some would call it. Me, I just classify it with one of those artsy places girls like to go to get drinks that have fruit and sugar in them and order off an overpriced menu that only serves about six options.

I was with my sister and dad when I had to excuse myself to the bathroom. Like I said, it was one of those 2017 trendy places; the bathroom was both male and female with one locking door and one toilet. I don’t like public bathrooms, however, I am not opposed to single-use bathrooms. Or so I thought.

I knocked on the door because I’m courteous and jiggled the handle, but it was locked. I stood there waiting, it wasn’t too long till I heard a flush and the sink run. The door opened, I gave a slight nod, he nodded back. Then it happened. I stepped into the bathroom and smelt the aftermath of what could have been Syrian warfare. The mere stench ripped apart my nose, it was absolutely vile, but I still had to go to the bathroom.

I waited long enough and I couldn’t hold it. I did what nobody wants to do. I gasped for air outside of the restroom, held my breath and went in. This was my first mistake. Why would I think that would work? My stream was still flowing strong and I ran out of breath causing me to hyperventilate that shit smell throughout my lungs making it ten times worse.

I finally zipped up, flushed, and didn’t wash my hands. I normally wash my hands, but I truly had to get out of there. I headed for the door, opened it like my life depended on it and fuck. There was a woman right next to the door waiting for that same bathroom that I had just had a torturous experience in. At first, I thought I should warn her, but then I realized she was going to think that I produced that deathly aroma.

It was somewhat of a miracle, like a spectacular eclipse. Everything lined up together timed perfectly to create this terrifying situation for me. My hands were clammy, my throat was dry, and I couldn’t string together any words to end this disaster. My head was racing at a million miles per hour with thoughts. Will she notice the smell? Of course, she would, she clearly has a nose and it was vile. Should I say it wasn’t me? Hell no, the second that stench grazed her nose she would immediately think it was me. Should I just walk away with my head down? She’ll catch a glimpse of my face and talk about it to her whole table while they laugh and look at me.

I froze. She smiled at me. I watched her take a step in, saw her nostrils flare, lips pucker, and face scrunch up. She walked out immediately. My heart dropped my eyes widened. I felt like I had just kicked this woman’s dog. I ruined her day and I didn’t even do anything. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and disgusting. Yet, it was not my fault. Part of me wanted to find the culprit and expose him. But maybe then again, it was someone before him, and the same situation went through this poor guy’s head. The best I could do was go back to my seat and swallow my pride.