My fire may have burned out with this one. Currently I am sitting in my well-lit apartment, chatting with my dog and on my second beer. This is a happy time. Much contrasted to last night at a similar hour, sitting on the floor of said apartment, lights off, staring at my dog, sober.

What on earth could cause a grown woman, of only *slight* mental instability, to go through such a dramatic 24 change? Well… a lot of stuff… but I’d like to focus on one part in particular.

Yesterday’s tasks were of minimal effort, not a great deal to be elaborated on. My primary problem seemed to encompass the lack of civility of an entire portion of our society. In layman’s terms: Screw the city of ****.

(I can’t offend an entire city, so just pick a name)

Normal human problem- I had to use the restroom. —Side note: am I the only one who uses the term ‘restroom’ along with my father? Is this a midwestern thing?–
Anyway, I had more than an hour before my appointment to find a location to suit my needs and then relax. Restroom. Read. Eat a snack.

First stop:
“Wow! my gas tank is on empty…. beeeettter go get some gas and hey they’ll have a restroom!”

FALSE. They obviously have “facilities” however the two guys at the register pause, look at each other – LITERALLY LOOK AT EACH OTHER- and then look back at me, in unison “No, not for the public.”

Alrighty, I suppose I am public. No worries, I’ll get gas and find a restroom somewhere else.

Second stop:
“Wow…. they really don’t have a lot of places around here- closest Dunkin Donuts is 10 minutes away, that’s fine. Bodily circumstances becoming a little more urgent but hey… I’ll stop, do what I need to do and grab a coffee”
NO I WON’T. Accompanying the gigantic sign saying “Customers ONLY” is one taped over it, haphazardly sharpied saying “So Sorry! Fuera De Servico”

K. Fine. I actually laughed out loud next to some donut junkies and pointed at the sign. “Figures!” and rolled my eyes.

Third stop:
I now have 15 minutes to my scheduled visit. Crunch time. Who never lets me down? The GrOcErY sToRe!!! Always there to meet my needs and give me an excuse to buy an economy size bag of pistachios or dog treat. Priorities.
I walk into the door with the obligatory ‘I’m here with serious shopping business to buy food for myself or people that need it’ while crazy-eyeing all angles of the building. Aisle 1? Aisle 12? The baked goods section? WHERE IS IT???
Gasp…. I don’t see an immediate sign… No worries, I am never above asking. I approach a group of three employees, all young enough to be my stupid pre-teen children if I had decided that they as HUMANS might have been WORTH IT.
“Oh hey guys! Any chance you know where the restroom is?”

They looked at me like I had four heads. After a pause where I increased my smile intensity and nodded as if we were all sharing some unspoken information one of the unwanted pregnancies sighed as if I was the worst thing that had ever walked into the store and lazily shrugged toward the customer service desk.

“You have to get a key”

Thank YOU! (F*** YOU!)

I’m going to fast forward this part because it’s boring. This is a money order spot/pay your electric bill spot/buy you lotto spot. I only had 4 people in front of me. In front of them was a sign that said:

Pay Customers,
You cannot use the restroom without the following:
A valid ID
A cell Phone
A set of car keys
Thank you for your cooperation.

I have all those things. I think everyone has those things. Everyone also (I think) has to use the restroom at one point or another.


Anyway. I was privileged enough to use the facilities. They were on par with a porta-potty. I was both humiliated and left with zero time to buy my pistachios because I was late to my appointment.

Lovely town.


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