So then… I glance nervously at my watch as this bathroom line of high school girls inches its way slowly toward the stalls. Our Marching Squad Captain only gave us 15 minutes for a break before we need to perform our routine at halftime at the football game.
As a lowly freshman, I’m eager to follow the rules – especially since I’ve already received 3 demerits at past games – twice for being late and once for forgetting to wear my gold bloomers under my gold Marching Squad skirt. (Don’t worry — I wore UNDERWEAR, people! They just weren’t gold!)
This Louisiana stadium bathroom is hot and humid, filled with chattering girls, including the super hip and cool SENIORS on the squad. I try not to let my geeky awkwardness radiate beyond my personal space.
It’s so hot and time is so short, I almost abandon the mission, but I “gotta pee like a Russian racehorse,” as they say, so I hang in there until – THANK GOD – it’s my turn to enter a stall.
But as soon as I close the door behind me, I see that the toilet paper is not on a roll – it’s little tiny individual square sheets!
Do you know the kind I mean? They’re almost like miniature tissues. You pull one out, but it’s just a tiny square, then you got to pull the next one out – and it takes FOREVER – especially since I have to encase the ENTIRE toilet seat with paper before I can sit down!
I know the other girls are also anxious to make it back before halftime, so I don’t want to be the annoying freshman that takes FOREVER.
But I can’t possibly let my virgin derriere touch that toilet seat because I’m certain I’ll end up pregnant – or I’ll contract some hideous disease that will necessitate a butt-amputation – and won’t THAT be awkward.
So I frantically start pulling out the little tiny sheets to cover the seat, often losing some in the bowl in my haste. I can just IMAGINE the Seniors are out there, all whispering about why it’s taking me so long – and I have half a mind to yell out, “I’m not pooping! I SWEAR I’m not pooping!”
FINALLY, I create an impressive criss-cross pattern of sheets to covering every inch of the entire seat, so I can safely sit. I pee quickly, flush, and pop out the door.
The line of waiting girls is still long, hot, and impatient.
As I walk to the sink, super popular Senior Claire Markam passes me to enter my stall.
At that precise moment, I realize that I forgot to push all those little toilet paper squares into the bowl before I flushed!
I freeze at the sink. My eyes wide, my heart thumping – OMIGOD, HOW EMBARRASSING! I need to RUN AWAY right now!
Just then, Claire opens her stall door and calls out, “Hey, Darcy!”
Time stands still. In slow motion, my head turns toward her.
Is she going to mock my toilet “shrine” in front of all these Seniors — and burden me with a humiliating nickname that will follow me all 4 years of my high school career?
She grins at me, gives a thumbs up, and says, “Thanks!”
I suddenly realize she’s GRATEFUL that I’d taken the time to create a paper seat cover that she could use too!
She wasn’t going to ridicule me for my hygiene habits – she was going to do the exact same thing! And I saved her time by doing it for her! I guess she didn’t mind sharing paper with my little bony ass as long as she avoided contact with a public toilet seat!
So now, instead of feeling mortified – I feel PROUD!
That super cool Senior admired my toilet-seat-wrapping skills!
I beam as I wash my hands.
But then I glance at that line of girls who are all looking at me oddly. They have no idea what’s in that stall.
They only know that Claire walked in my stall, then poked her head out to say, “Hey, Darcy! Thanks!”
Now they’re all wondering what I left in that stall for Claire to see.
An amazing poop sculpture?
As I exit, it takes every ounce of willpower for me not to shout, “I didn’t poop. I SWEAR I didn’t poop!”
(Of course, you guys might know I do have some amazing talent in that field, as evidenced hilariously right HERE.)
— Darcy Perdu
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(Are YOU a dedicated seat-coverer? Terrified to poop in public too? Any funny stories from your high school days?)