Trying To Find A Public Restroom: A Nevin Barich Blog Experience

It happens to all of us at one time or another. You're in the car, driving along, not a care in the world, when it hits you:

I have to pee.

And it's not one of those, "I would use the restroom if one was readily available, but since it's not, I can wait" type of pees. No, in this scenario, it's always an uncontrollable urge that must be met, and met now. And when this type of urge hits, you can always count on three things:

You're nowhere near home or work.

You're in traffic.

And gas stations -- which are always in abundance when your gas tank is full and there's no reason to stop in -- have disappeared off the face of the Earth.

This was the situation I was in recently when faced with the "I have to pee and pee now!!!" dilemma. The urge hit, I was stuck behind people who had no idea how to step on the pedal that makes the car move forward, and I found myself on the only street in America where Chevron and Arco and Mobil ceased to exist.

So I did what any of us would normally do in this situation: Scream in frustration, honk my horn, sway from side to side as much as my seat belt would allow, and frantically looked for any place that may have a bathroom that I could use.

It was at this point that I pulled into a mom-and-pop sub shop.

The good news: It had a bathroom.

The bad news: You needed a key.

The worst news: The key was behind the counter, manned by a woman with a look on her face that said, "I hate you, I hate life, and I hate people who ask to use my bathroom key."

Even so, I thought maybe I could sweet talk her.

"Excuse me, may I use your bathroom?" I asked the lady behind the counter, flashing a dazzling smile.

"No bathroom!! You must buy something!!" she lovingly replied.

"But I just..."

"You must buy something!!"

"But can't I..."

"Buy something!!"

"But..."

"BUY!!"

So much for charm.

Desperate, I looked around for something cheap and purchased a small bag of chili cheese fritos. After plucking down my 82 cents (including tax), I then asked for the bathroom key, which should at this point be rightfully mine.

But...

"No bathroom!! You must buy sub!!"

Say what?

"I just bought some chips," I argued.

"You must buy sub!!" repeated the gestapo.

"You never said sub," I replied.

"Sub. I say sub now."

"I'm not gonna buy a sub just to use your bathroom. Hell, I didn't even want these chips!!"

"Then give chips back!!"

"Fine!! Then give me my money back."

"No!! No refunds!!"

By this point, I would've bet money that I was on some sort of candid-camera show.

"You mean to tell me that you want me to hand you a bag of chips that I paid for without getting my money back and without being able to use your bathroom?"

"Yes!! Give chips back!!"

"No!!"

"Yes!!"

"No!!"

"Yes!!

"No!!"

"You bad person!! Leave now!!"

"Fine!!"

And as I got to the exit, I turned around, glared at the woman, and threw the chips in the trash.

"You want the chips back?" I asked. "Go dumpster diving."

And then I walked around the corner and took a wiz in the back of an alley.

As nature intended.

And now for this week's:

SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE

It's official. The lady and I have a wedding date: Aug. 22, 2009.

And the ax slowly begins to fall...