What if I Didn’t Make it to the Bathroom in Time?

I squirmed around in my seat, waiting for my teacher to finish talking. As I waited, I thought about my lunch. I almost groaned, remembering I had an extra large coffee from McDonald’s. Typically, I get my coffee from that little breakfast cart in front of the 1/2/3 station, but I got to school way too late today and it left. McDonald’s gives a lot of coffee for a good price, but the quality is questionable. I thought back to the last time I had coffee from McDonald’s, and let’s just say, the toilet was a tad bit clogged. Well, maybe more than a tad bit, but it’s fineee!

My teacher stopped talking and my hand shot up into the air. She looked at me, and I asked if I could go to the bathroom. And just my luck! She said to wait just a second for her to pass out an important worksheet. It felt like she had something against me going to the bathroom, because she started from the opposite side of the classroom. Tapping my foot, I tried my best to stay calm, but I could feel it welling up inside me. At that moment, the worksheets arrived. I passed the worksheets on as fast as I could, almost throwing them onto the desk next to me, and turned to my teacher. She gave me a slight nod and I bolted out of there. I realized as I was running to the bathroom that it must have looked really weird, but that was the least of my concerns—I was about to explode in my pants. 

I skidded to a stop just before the bathroom door, nearly crashing headfirst into it. I grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, sighing in relief as I saw that there was no line. I ran into a stall and slammed the door behind me. I swear my pants hated me or something—if you know how annoying Stuy’s two-step verification is, then imagine how three-step verification feels. I pulled at my belt, not doing much to make it looser. After a moment of struggle, I managed to get it open. I fumbled with the button on my pants, my fingers slipping as I tried to undo it. With much difficulty, I got the small round button out of the even smaller hole. The zipper was by far the easiest thing to undo—it came down with a satisfying hiss. 

I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I sat down on the cool, porcelain toilet seat. I’d usually hover or make a seat cover out of toilet paper, but you know what they say: desperate times call for desperate measures! I felt the contents of my intestines pour out of me, and I had never felt better. I swore to myself that I’d never drink McDonald’s coffee again, regardless of the circumstance. It just wasn’t worth it. I stared ahead at the stall door, reading and admiring the graffiti left behind by others. There were stick figure drawings and one that looked almost like a summoning circle. I then stared at the ceiling, wondering what I should eat for dinner. Just as I decided on another hearty meal of halal, I finished my business.

I redressed my lower half, taking my time to rezip and fix my belt to perfection. After ensuring everything looked alright, I walked out of the stall, ignoring the lasting smell behind me. Reaching the sink, I merrily washed my hands and strolled out of the bathroom. I smiled to myself as I walked back to class, knowing I had just saved myself from what could have been a big accident. But that’s alright—I keep spare pants and stuff in my locker for situations like this. I leisurely walked into class and sat back down with a serene look on my face.