girlfiend

I pulled the pregnancy card for the first time on Saturday and I wasn’t very nice about it. We’d just driven over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, and I really, really had to pee. I’d had to pee for quite some time, only we were listening to This American Life and Act Three of the episode Image Makers was so good I couldn’t bear to stop and miss it. So I stupidly told Boyfiend I could wait.

The Bay Bridge-Tunnel is really, really long. 17 miles, to be exact. And if you take into account that I’d probably had to pee for at least half an hour before that, my bladder was quite full. We finally got to a rest stop and I ran out of the car leaving Boyfiend to find a spot large enough to accomodate his trailer. When I say ran, I really mean something more along the lines of waddling, clutching my thighs together so as not to spill, while attempting to move as quickly as possible. To my dismay, the ladies room was closed. A line of women, also waiting to pee, stood before the door which was roped off for cleaning. So I stood and waited. And waited.

A few minutes later Boyfiend came in and used the men’s room. Another man brought his two little girls into the men’s room with him. I contemplated following Boyfiend in and just using the men’s, but decided against it. When he came out I asked him about the scene and he said the stalls were occupied. I figured I’d give it another minute before just using the men’s. A minute later, the janitor emerged from the lady’s and moved the ropes. The women ahead of me surged forward.

In the rest room there were maybe five stalls. At least five women, and seven pre-teen girls were ahead of me. A little girl walked into a stall then walked right out crying, “Ew, there’s poop on the seat!” Her sister, who probably had to pee more badly than she did said, “I don’t care, I’ll use it,” before walking in, looking at the seat, and deciding against it. The girls’s mother made some comment about the restroom having just been cleaned. At this point, I was about to explode and had no interest in listening to idle conversation. I announced to the line in front of me, “I’m pregnant,” and pushed them out of my way. The girls’ mother was on her way into the stall. I hurriedly pushed her aside, grunted, “Pregnant,” slammed the door and locked it.

The poo on the seat was pretty fucking gross, but years of yoga practice has prepared me well for using public restrooms. My first yoga instructor actually referred to chair pose as ‘public restroom pose’ so rather than attempt to cover the nastiness on the seat below me I squatted and relieved myself. When I was finished I calmly washed my hands and left the room without making eye contact with any of the women I’d shoved aside.

I felt sort of bad about my behavior, especially since I don’t even look pregnant yet, but desperate times call for desperate measures.