So this was me – pants half-way down, slightly stooped over a dusty toilet seat and using one hand to desperately latch unto the door handle in case the seemingly faulty lock gave way to an uninvited student. My situation was bleak to say the least. I could see through some small spaces between the wooden wall panel and I noticed the students seated and I could hear a female teacher’s voice giving a lecture which I had absolutely no interest in. In fact, the only lecture I was prepared to pay good money for was on how to escape a toilet right beside a classroom full of judging students without being detected.
My immediate mission was to remain silent in order to avoid early detection. How hard could that be, right? My rumbling belly had the perfect answer to that question but that was nothing compared to the brief squeak-poop sound that my bowels uttered. Did anyone else notice? Phew! The teacher was still giving her lecture as if nothing happened – that was a close call. I only had about 20 more torturous minutes left to go now and my legs were already feeling the strain of being in an awkward position. My knees were shaking like I was auditioning for a Blues Brothers re-make. I was getting the sweats too…I had no idea how much more of this I could take. Seconds seemed like minutes and minutes seemed like hours. And then, like Phil Collins, I could feel it coming in the air to-…oh no…
cat gas was out of the (wind) bag and all I could do was hope that no one heard this loud paint-gun sounding discharge. ‘Who is poo-ing away there?’, the teacher asked in a stern tone. I could hear all the students giggling in the background. To my embarrassment drain mode was not yet over…
The resounding laughter among the students pierced deep into my self-esteem and I dreaded ever coming out of the toilet to complete my humiliation. Alas my cycle stopped and I could hear the sound of the students leaving the class and conversing into the distance until it was only the sound of my breathing left. I looked through the wooden panel to make sure the coast was clear. I got myself all ready for my escape but fear kept me captive…for another half hour. What I didn’t know was that I ran the risk of a having a full-scale search party on my hands – that was the fear that conquered the other fear and got me opening the door extra carefully. I tiptoed until I got as far away as I could from the ‘crime scene’ and then blended into the midst of students. So what if I skipped class. So what if I had the stomach run from hell. At least I had one consolation back then – that shit never got traced back to me…until now *straight face*
…and in case you missed it, see how it all started here