Forever Dodging The Shit

You know, it's amazing the things you learn to ignore when you live in a city, especially New York.

I just walked into the Women's bathroom and was greeted by the stench of freshly-squeezed God Knows What. It was that type of foulness that makes you think, "What the HELL does this person EAT?!"

The entire room was infused with the smell, that's how bad it was. The bathrooms here are not that small and are relatively well-ventilated. So, for an odor to completely overtake the room to near-nauseating levels, you know it had to be bad.

I found myself in a tough spot. Because the smell was so bad, I could not discern the stall from whence it was birthed. I only had three options: I could go with my usual default stall which was, of course, the handicapped stall. (What? I like the room and the higher toilet! I'm tall!) However, there was someone else in the bathroom applying make-up, which meant she would be there for several more minutes. She was standing directly in front of the Handicapped stall and I just thought it would be weird to walk in and choose the stall right behind her. Bad form, if you will, even though I suspected she was the Originator of the Terrible, Terrible Smell.

Heart pounding (because I wasn't really allowing myself to breathe), I then considered the middle stall. Poor, underused middle stall, right? WRONG! I think I read something somewhere where someone once said something relating to some study about women's bathrooms which found the middle stall to be the most frequently used when given a choice. Considering this middle stall prejudice, and the fact that it's the darkest of the three stalls due to the oh-so-flattering and strategic florescent lighting in the drop-ceiling, I rejected it as an option. Darkness, frequent use, possible asphyxiation due to being the Stall Where It Happened...it just had too much going against it.

This left the first stall. Well lit, door open and welcoming, toilet low but appearing clean...I chose this stall. For some reason, it didn't hit me until I closed and locked the stall door that THIS STALL was actually THE ONE WHERE IT HAPPENED. UGH! How could I have chosen so poorly? And it's not like I could bust out! What if the woman putting on make-up really WAS the Originator? And what if I busted out of the stall, gasping for air, an accusatory look of confused disgust on my face, with my flashing brown eyes silently, inevitably begging the question, "HOW COULD YOU KNOWINGLY LET ME ENTER THAT STALL?" She would be humiliated. I just couldn't do that to her. So, I endured.

It was then that it ocurred to me; I encounter so many disgusting things on a daily basis as a resident of New York. I'm constantly side-stepping dog shit, vomit, loogies, rotten trash, GREASE... My nose is forever assaulted by the smells of carbon monoxide fumes, rotting food, unwashed bodies, moldy subway platforms, GREASE... I am basically exposed to such filth on a daily basis that I'm almost numb to it. I barely notice it anymore.

Considering all that; my ability to ignore the forever offensive offal that is 9 million people living on one tiny island, you can just imagine HOW FUCKING BAD THE SMELL IN THAT BATHROOM REALLY, TRULY WAS.