If I told you half of how bad the bathroom was that I used this weekend you would throw up. To me IBS stands for Icky Bathroom Stalls. That’s what you have to live with when you actually have IBS and HAVE TO GO…NOW. And by have to go I mean you can’t make it to the front door of the store much less your car much less home. Not cool. This bathroom was SO BAD that I almost took a photo of it for the blog but I didn’t want to offend anyone’s eyes. When I walked out Tom asked how bad it was. I said real bad. He said he’ll hold it. Good choice. Unfortunately it was not an option for me.
I have contemplated taking photos and keeping track of all the Icky Bathroom Stalls I have used. But that’s just gross.
Here’s another common IBS example from this weekend. Tom and I are at the mall heading towards the Gap. I freeze in my tracks. “Tom, where is the closest bathroom to our current location?” And he knows. I know. We know where all the bathrooms are in all the stores I have EVER been to in the Capital Region (and beyond).
They are not all pleasant. And they do not all have soap. I once used a men’s room just to wash my hands – not sure if it was worth it. I guess the only thing positive that comes from using Icky Bathroom Stalls (besides getting there in time) is I probably have a very high germ tolerance. You can’t have IBS and live in a bubble – you won’t make it home in time.