The Burrito Shuffle
The bathroom, or head for us nautical folks, closest to my office has five urinals and five stalls. The urinals are all against one wall opposite the stalls. This is a U.S. Navy school – NNPTC in Charleston, SC for those familiar with it – and we have a daily schedule with ten-minute breaks in the morning and five-minute breaks in the afternoon. I will leave your imagination to ponder the poor effects this policy has implementing a five minute break after all the students and staff have returned from lunch. In short, I have learned to relieve myself between breaks, should the urge for a post-lunch purge strike.
One particular day, when I was not teaching, I felt such an urge and walked into the bathroom. Of the five stalls, the one second from the wall was out of order, creating in the last stall a private shitter; to the left is a tile wall and to the right is the unusable stall. This situation is the best one can hope to discover at work if he is looking for the luxuries of pooping at home. On this day I had the fortune to enter an empty bathroom and secure the fifth stall for myself.
While I pride myself on usually having one to two-wipe poops, I was not so lucky today. Lunch had been a Super Burrito (seven inches long by three-and-a-half inches in diameter) from the taco truck just off base that, for a mere five dollars, will serve you a monstrous burrito with meat, black beans, rice, guacamole, sour cream and salsa. It is one of those meals that is a little bit larger than one should normally eat in one sitting, but it is so good that it’s eaten in one sitting, anyway.
Displacement being what it is, these burritos usually cause a pretty massive poop one to two hours after ingestion, and all bets about a one to two wiper are off. The turd starts normally, but after a couple inches the good form of the turd gives way to a chunky liquid. Often I use the analogy of popping the cork off of a champagne bottle to describe this. After committing my handiwork to the deep, I reached to my right for toilet paper and found that there was none. Here is one of those commercial toilet paper holders that is supposed to contain not one, but two of the industrial-sized rolls of toilet paper, and it was empty!
Like a submarine popping its periscope above the waves to take a look around, I poked my head below the partition to see if there was someone who would take pity on me and toss me a roll. Alas, there was no one. Had this occurred at home I could have walked to the cabinet to get another roll, or better yet, stripped and taken a shower. Fate, however, had marked not so fortunate; I would have to make a run for it, two stalls down to my right.
As this was a post-Super Burrito poop, I couldn't let my shirt tails hang upon my butt as normal, let alone risk pulling my pants up for this walk of shame, so as I rose, I carefully rolled the back of my shirt up to avoid sullying it. My one saving grace was that I had my lab coat and could carry before me to avoid frontal exposure.
Just as I began the penguin-walk of shame with my pants around my ankles to the third stall, three students walked in to see me in my state of undress. Quickly, I finished hobbling to the third stall, and was forced to clean up my desecrated butt cheeks to the sound of stifled laughter. I know that the story has made it around, as a few students have asked me about The Incident. It should be noted that this has not hurt my reputation, but merely solidified it as being "one of the guys."
I put to you, brothers and sisters of the good PoopReport: What is one to do when stuck in a public place with no toilet paper? Should I have waited until someone came in and asked them to pass me a roll?