“Have you ever been somewhere in public, like at a movie or something, when you really need to go to the bathroom, but you don’t want to make a fuss by having to bother people to get out?  It can be really embarrassing!” says my old buddy Tikens  during a phone call.

“Sure,” I say.  “I had the tail end of the flu once and went to the opera with some friends.  I told them I really needed to sit as close to the aisle as possible, just in case..”

“Yeah,” says Tikens.  “That’d be bad to jump up in the middle of an opera when the fat lady is singing and the guy with  the horns on his head is bellowing.”

“Well, my friends told me I’d definitely be in an aisle seat.  They kind of giggled when they  said it.”

 “So, were you in an aisle seat?”

“Sure enough. Front row, center.  My toes were resting on edge of the orchestra pit.  The thought of standing up and making a mad dash for the men’s room struck such fear in my heart that I didn’t go to the can for four days.”

“Ha! Just the other day I was in line at the post office to buy stamps,” says Tikens. “I suddenly had  to go.  So, I left.  I still haven’t gotten back there to buy stamps, and now my mortgage payment is late.”

“I can relate,” I say.

 “The worst one,” he says, “just happened yesterday.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, my car was really, really dirty, so I gassed up at a station that has an automatic car wash.  I pushed the button on the pump to say I wanted the car wash, and finished filling my tank.”

“I sort of needed to go to the men’s room, but there was already a line at the car wash, so I decided I’d better get in line before it got any longer.  I drove over there and was fifth in line.  Right away, two or three other cars came in behind me., so I was trapped.”

“I think I can see where this is going,” I say.

“Yeah,” says Tikens. “I’m sitting there, listening to my radio and now I really, really need to go, so I keep trying to think about something else.  The radio is playing oldies, and it seems like every one is worse than the last one.  Splish Splash I Was Takin’ a Bath.  Moon River. Johnny B. Goode.” 

“Yikes!” I say.

“It gets worse.  All of the people ahead of me had opted for the super-duper-deluxe-slow-as-molasses-in-January car washes.  The line was creeping.  I turned off the radio and started doing the shimmy shimmy shake, dancin’ in my seat, trying my best to think of deserts and cacti and quiet peaceful places. Finally, I just got out of my car and ran into the gas station, figuring I’d get back before it was my turn to go into the car wash.”

“Why not?” I say.

“There’s only one bathroom, and it’s locked and two women with babies are waiting in line to use it.  No hope of ever getting in there, so I give it up.  By the time I get back to my car, it’s time to drive into the car wash and the guy behind me is helping me by honking furiously because I’ve delayed him for 30 seconds.”

“Well, I drive into the car wash.  Can you think of a worse place to be?  Water spraying and dripping and running over the windows?  When the blower finally went on and the door went up at the end of the wash cycle, I was out of there like a shot, and made it home in record time.”

“That’s quite a story,” I say.  “But, I’ve got to hang up now.  I’ve really gotta go.”

“Me too.”

Fancy that. 
                                by Jim Whitehouse

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