A Poopreport Short: An American Refuge In Berlin

When I was seventeen I went to Germany on a school exchange with a bunch of other kids. We all ended up in different cities but got back together again to visit Berlin. We stayed in a youth hostel that had what we'd consider average public toilets. I don't know why, but I've never had the nerve to go Number Two with someone else in the vicinity! I have to have complete privacy. Because I couldn't get that privacy, I held on for five whole days.

Of course the inevitable happened, and I really needed to go. Fortunately, I knew where there was a toilet on its own -- in a nearby KFC. The pressure was so bad that I collapsed twice on the way to the loo, with my legs firmly twisted together to keep the seal tight on my poo chute. I think people thought I was drunk.

For awhile there it seemed like I was going to shit my pants in the middle of the Kurfuerstendamm. It's the busiest shopping street in Berlin. I never would have lived that down. But Thank God: I made it to the KFC toilet, and it was the most tremendous shit I have ever had in my entire life. It felt like I was getting rid of about ten kilograms of fecal matter. The sounds and the smell were dazzling, the latter was so strong that it almost made me dizzy.

I exited the toilet to find -- OMG -- a restroom attendant-type person! That poor woman had to enter the scene of the crime. I felt so bad that I tipped her five euros. How ironic it would have been if I had shit myself in public because I was too shy to use the youth hostel toilets!

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