For Kateri: Another Public Potty Misadventure (...You Guys Can Read It Too)

So, about three months ago, I went antiquing with my mom.  I found myself in desperate need of a bathroom (soda induced pee emergency, thankfully), while she was desperately in love with an old glass buoy and net...  I wanted to leave the store and book it home, but she loved this thing, and she was determined to find out how much it cost and hopefully purchase it.  The shop owners were busy ringing out and helping other customers, so I faced the music, handed Brooke to my mom, and went in search of the antique shop's quaint little antique bathroom.

And not to be disappointed!  This public bathroom was pretty cute and super-old, tucked into the space beneath the stairs.  It had a decrepit, miniature toilet--the kind with the (unsanitary) wooden seat--and a the tiniest porcelain sink that I'd ever seen.  The room also featured hand-stenciling along the top of its bead-boarded walls.

I used the bathroom (#1 only) and used a modest amount of t.p. 

I flushed.

The water in the toilet rose...AND ROSE....AND ROSE...and toilet paper shreds began to explode from the drain of the toilet like sewage seaweed.  PANIC!!  Nightmare!!  The water began to overflow the toilet bowl and cascade onto the floor!  A noisy waterfall of filthy torrents!

In a state of shock, I reached my bare hand into the toilet--I didn't know what else to do and was spazzing--and grabbed this huge wad of sodden t.p. that the toilet drain had regurgitated...  I threw it into the trash...  I tried opening the back of the toilet and jiggling the mechanisms.  After what seemed like an eternity, the toilet finally ceased its geyser impression, but the damage was done.  The whole ENTIRE floor was covered in toilet water.

I used paper towels and t.p. to try to sop up the mess and got the whole place reasonably clean--if you consider toilet water to be an acceptable cleaning agent, I guess.  Upon closer inspection, as I dried it, I noticed that the flooring appeared to be water-damaged and warped.

I can only hope that this indicates that I'm not the first person to flood the bathroom!!

Humilated and with skin damp with toilet water, I left the bathroom, my dignity shredded like the toilet paper that gurgled out of the toilet.  As I said, the evil potty had ceased its attack.  The floor was reasonably dry.  I am ashamed to admit that I didn't notify the gentleman who seemed to own the store of my mishap, but I was just too mortified. My mom bought the antique buoy...so at least one of us did something positive for the store during our visit to make up for my inadvertent vandalization...

When we got to the car, I scrubbed my hands with antibacterial gel and baby wipes out, out darned spot-style.  YUUUCK...  I still feel dirty.  Stupid old toilet!  (One time when you definitely don't appreciate an antique, right?)

Misadventures in Public Restrooms: Please Do Not Do #2

Just a heads up: this post is about poop (and me), which is a decidedly unladylike topic of polite conversation--heretofore the crux of this blog, to be sure!  Read on if you dare...

I know that a lot of people have a lot of problems with pooping or not pooping or not pooping enough.  I, thankfully, do not.  Personal pooping doesn't generally even enter my radar, what with all of the poop issues that pop up around me:  I have to hear about Alyssa's poop, Greg's poop, and the most-dreaded "Mama, Mama, boo-poo, Mama" from Brooke.  Oh, the abundant joys of family life...

Today I had an appointment to have my riding jacket tailored because I have a show coming up next weekend (yay!).  All morning, I had been having wrenching stomach cramps, gurgling, just general garden-variety gastrointestinal distress. (Think: Pepto commercial.) Without getting too graphic, I will say that I tried to relieve my issues oftentimes without success; I even went so far as to around when I was driving to my appointment to try again at home.

Of course, as I entered the parking lot of the tailor shop, my stomach did it's ultimate drop, and I knew I needed to find a restroom fast!  Once inside, I inquired about a public restroom.  I was shown to a tiny room directly behind the front counter.  In spite of the restroom's lack of exhaust fan, paper thin walls, and absurdly close proximity to the staff and other customers adjacent in the front room, I was utterly relieved to be in there...until I sat down on the toilet and came eye-level with a neon, laminated sign from "the Management," which stated:

"Please do not do #2 in this bathroom.  It would be very inappropriate to do in our front counter restroom."

[the eeearrrrch sound of a tape rewinding]

Whaaaa?  Excuse me?! Inappropriate? It is not exactly a choice when Nature calls!  They don't say when Nature implores or inquires or suggests....she CALLS to action.  Believe me, it is certainly not that I WANT to do my business in their business.  I generally avoid using public restrooms altogether, and I would never do #2 in a friend's or family member's bathroom unless I had no other choice.  I think of myself as a very polite, and very personal pooper.

I seriously considered leaving the shop before my appointment even began.  I urgently needed a REAL restroom, and I was sort of indignant about the rules and regs of this quote-unquote public restroom.  What nerve?!  What a way to treat one's customers?  ...talk about inappropriate.

Can you even believe this?  Does anyone have any other misadventures to share?  Is this common?