A True Story by Reece Alan Theberge
Originally Posted on Facebook November 12th, 2013
So I was riding the bus on the way to school today, just kicking up my knees against the seat and watching some newLEGACYInc. videos, when my gut pops off my pants button. The problem? I don’t have a belt.
I get to school and I ask my 1st period Physics teacher, Mr. Lockhart, if he had string. He gave me a roll of string and scissors as I made a makeshift belt, looping the string through two of my pants’ belt loops.
So from 1st period to about 6th period I was fine, until I hit 7th period and I needed to go #2. Bad. And this isn’t the kind of #2 you can just hold in, no, this was the kind that needed immediate attention within the hour or else my cheeks will become ground zero for an explosion of fecal proportions. I did my best to hold it until 9th period. Before the start of class, I asked my drama teacher, Mrs. Klonowski, for a pass to the restroom, to which she agreed.
Now before we go any further, if you do not attend my high school, let me paint you a picture of the layout of restrooms:
Floor 1 has two restrooms; one on each side of the school. One being located near the cafeteria, the other next to the drama class.
Floor 2 has two restrooms as well, but only one is for students, the other one is for the staff.
Floor 3 only has one restroom.
Okay? Now we can continue.
So I get my pass and head to the nearest restroom. To my utter shock and disgust, I see 6 kids in the bathroom (skipping class, of course) and all the doors of the stalls are missing. Now, like most people, when I go #2, I like to have my privacy. I like to go into the biggest stall, close the door, and do my business. So obviously, I can not go in that place.
So I go to the other end of the building to go use the other restroom. To my everlasting joy, there were stalls. I look through the stalls and see that the big stall is the only one with toilet paper. You could imagine how high I was jumping for joy. I go to look at the seat, and, well…..
You know how people like to put down toilet paper on public bathrooms to prevent getting crap and urine germs on their legs (like I do)? Well, someone did that, but, somehow, it seemed like someone TOOK A WHIZZ ON THE TOILET PAPER ON THE SEAT! I grumble, take fresh toilet paper, and wipe off all that nasty into the toilet. After I sufficiently eradicate all offending germs, I go to the roll to get paper to lay down, and, wouldn’t you know it? THE TOILER PAPER IS ALL GONE!
At this point I’m extremely pissed off and Prairie Dogging it (Definition? Well, have you ever seen a prarie dog stick it’s head in and out of a hole?….. Use your imagination). So I go up to the 2nd floor bathroom, and as if the angels in heaven heard my distress, they bless me with door-attached stalls and a giant roll of toilet paper. I march triumphantly into the big stall, look at the seat…..
THE SAME DAMN THING HAPPENED AGAIN! I take a pause to really register what had happened and then use clean paper to wipe it off. For one second, the urinated paper touched my finger and I bolted out of the stall to get it washed. After that brush with death, I place down clean toilet paper, close the stall, and pull down my pants. Wait, did I say “pull down my pants”? I meant struggle to get them off. Yeah, forgot about the part where I had string holding my pants together, didn’t you? I had to squeeze out of my pants to get them off of my robust and well-done thighs.
Okay. Now I have everything prepared to do my business, but one thing has entered the fray: I am now agitated. In sort of a “Confession Tuesday”, whenever I get agitated before taking a dump, I have to take off ALL clothes. It helps me relax, so don’t judge. But picture, if you will, me, Reece Alan Theberge, sitting buck-ass naked in a stall, with no way to pull up his pants all the way fast enough if something were to happen. Yeah, not a pretty image. After I do my business (it wasn’t even a relief to get it done, more like a chore), I come upon the task of pulling up my pants.
To make a long story short, I snapped the string by pulling up my pants, I tie it around my loops again, wipe, put on my clothes, flush, wash my hands, and head back to class; 15 minutes late.