Pit Stop

What is it about going shopping that makes me have to poop? I have another friend who shares this affliction, but otherwise, I am alone in this store induced dumping. It happens to me all the time. In fact, it's happened since I was little, when my mom, sister, and I used to go to Bergner's, or as it's called now, Carson Pirie Scott, back in good old Aurora. We'd all seperate to follow our own shopping adventures, and just when I thought I might be okay this time, that I might not have to go, it would hit me like a coconut frappacino. I would practically run from the juniors department all the way to the bathroom in lingerie, squeezing the cheeks and praying that there were empty stalls.

Speaking of lingerie, there's a fabulous new shop of it at the Paseo in Pasadena -- it's called East Thirteen and I would say it's the Tiffany's of lingerie buying. You get water and chocolates and if you're lucky, some very beautiful (albeit pricey) lingerie.

These urgent bathroom trips still happen, although I've gotten better at taking the necessary steps to avoid tragedy. Most often, it happens at Target and other big department stores with obscure bathrooms. Today, I was at Marshall's, checking around for a new handbag, and it hit me. I had to poop immediately. Luckily, I've had some practice at keeping it in while speed walking through aisles and past old women who block the roadways. I ran to their bathroom, only to see that there was a key pad on the bathroom door. Who puts a protective lock on their bathroom?! I checked the men's, ready to charge in if it was open (covering my eyes, of course). Alas, locked as well. I had to run all the way to the fitting room to get the attendant to page a woman to let me into the bathroom. A lengthy process when there's a prairie dog situation.