The Delicate Dance of Dames Doing Dookie
Women poop. Let's just start there. Anybody who is like "ew gurlz can't poop b/c they smell like roses" has never gotten a whiff of the crotch of my gym pants after a spin class. We poop. All the time. At least once per day. If a woman lives to be 90 that is upward of 32,000 poops in her lifetime. And maybe triple that for me because #buttproblems.
Maybe that is why I can poop almost anywhere without hesitation or shame. I keep a mental ranking of the best places to poop in almost any scenario. Uptown Manhattan - Fairway, Barnes and Noble, and Bloomingdales. Kwik Trip is the best gas station in the nation to poop in. When in the woods make sure you have a holding tree. I have got this shit (lullllllllz) down to a science, but there is one place I have yet to conquer. The workplace.
It is really weird to poop at work, and I have spent the past month or so truly pondering why this is while sitting in a stall clenching my butt waiting for everyone else to leave the bathroom so I can let that Cleveland steamer roll. I think it has to do with women being socialized to NEVER INCONVENIENCE ANYONE OR TAKE UP SPACE WITH OUR FARTS. This is, of course, more strongly ingrained in some of us than others. My mom, for instance, will ONLY poop at home (the 10 days we spent in Costa Rica got interesting around day 5) and even then she slips away without asking anyone to pause the movie. I have another friend who would never poop at a boyfriend's house and would drive to a nearby gas station to go. Once, all the gas stations were closed and she shit her pants, and even that was preferable to pooping at his house (when I asked her if I could use this story she said 'I stand in my truth'). That really says something about how we teach girls to be delicate pretty unobtrusive things that never offend, olfactorily or otherwise.
Aside from the philosophical quandaries that work pooping poses, I have also noticed what might amount to a secret language that seems to pervade workplace pooping situations in women's bathrooms. I myself have been guilty of each of these at one time or another.
1. The sniff -
The sniff occurs when there is a single occupant in a stall but is sitting so quietly that an entering occupant may not know she's there. The initial occupant will give a little sniff, as if to signal, "Hi, I am here waiting for the stress to release its chokehold on my bowels and let me poop before my 90 minute conference call." The intruding occupant, if also praying for the sweet relief of that triple shot latte, will also sniff, letting the original occupant that she is here to stay. Thus they entwine in the delicate dance of defecation code, sniffing and sniffing again in reply to check in. *sniff* Yes, I'm still here. *sniff* I will be a little longer. *sniff* I am sorry we have to experience this. *sniff*but isn't this what binds us together as creatures confined in an invisible yet restricting societal corset? *sniff* you know carol is sleeping with john.
2. The well-timed flush (WTF) -
Now I have not ever been able to master the well timed flush, for several reasons: either I poop what appears to be a toy dumptruck's worth of poop nuggets thus making flushing successions impossible, I am having a horrific bowel episode because I ate something and the farts, squeaks, and weeping are impossible to hide with a 5 second flush, or I get the coveted silent 10 inches and a clean wipe and one flush rules them all. I know the successful well timed flush exists though, because I have heard it. Someone sitting in a stall will flush 3 to five times in a 2 minute period. We know what you're doing, but do we? We don't have sufficient evidence and did not experience the shared embarrassment of an errant 'plop' so this remains a time-treasured public pooping hack.
3. The 'rustle whatever is immediately accessible to cover the sound'
If you are lacking the confidence necessary for the WTF - or you are nestling your cheeks on a toilet with some kind of advanced future-toilet that uses motion censors, the 'rustle shit around' is a favored method of being "discreet." Rotating the TP around on the dowel seems to be a favored method, and though it suggests to any other women in the bathroom that you may be using an entire roll of TP for one dookie sesh it is considered preferable to appear to actively destroy the environment rather than let other women know that you're taking the kids to the pool. Other rustletremonts include needlessly opening and closing the 'sanitary napkin disposal' bin and shuffling one's feet across the tiles. The godsend of all rustlers is the unopened roll of TP - loudly unwrapping it and then crumpling and uncrumpling and recrumplig the paper until it's in shreds in my sweaty palms provides just enough cover to pinch one off while simultaneously convincing whoever else is in there that you are just REALLY struggling getting your TP open.
4. The 'I'm just changing my tampon I swear'
This one is tricky and usually cannot be used on the first day of your period because PERIOD POOPS ARE THE ABSOLUTE WORST. You've been retaining water like a goddamned succulent for the past several days and now that your uterine muscles are cramping your colon muscles are like "hey! we wanna play too! WE HAVE A WATERSLIDE." And out it comes in all of it's loose, crampy, Japanese horror film glory. There is no duck and cover for that, you have to live the shame of letting your coworkers know that you poop, and fart, and have an all around explosive butthole. But day 3 your tampon and pad wrappers provide enough ambient bathroom noise to let your just barely solid again poops slide into the deep dark world of water treatment facilities.
Now, I have not spent any measurable time pooping in a men's public restroom so I can't speak to this with any authority, but preliminary conversations indicate that men's rooms do not experience the following phenomena - in fact, a Swedish friend related how horrified he was at how loud men are in public restrooms. Anything from unabashed farts, moans, grunts, and sometimes flat out verbal self praise. It makes sense, American men are raised to be aggressively masculine and fart on each other, on each other's stuff, on each other's pillows, etc as some sign of, I dunno, dominance, whereas Swedish dudes and Swedish women are kind of alike in that they have equal rights and equal bathroom etiquette. #freethefart ***see below for the best men's public poo story I have ever heard
Maybe that is why I can poop almost anywhere without hesitation or shame. I keep a mental ranking of the best places to poop in almost any scenario. Uptown Manhattan - Fairway, Barnes and Noble, and Bloomingdales. Kwik Trip is the best gas station in the nation to poop in. When in the woods make sure you have a holding tree. I have got this shit (lullllllllz) down to a science, but there is one place I have yet to conquer. The workplace.
Actual work meeting
It is really weird to poop at work, and I have spent the past month or so truly pondering why this is while sitting in a stall clenching my butt waiting for everyone else to leave the bathroom so I can let that Cleveland steamer roll. I think it has to do with women being socialized to NEVER INCONVENIENCE ANYONE OR TAKE UP SPACE WITH OUR FARTS. This is, of course, more strongly ingrained in some of us than others. My mom, for instance, will ONLY poop at home (the 10 days we spent in Costa Rica got interesting around day 5) and even then she slips away without asking anyone to pause the movie. I have another friend who would never poop at a boyfriend's house and would drive to a nearby gas station to go. Once, all the gas stations were closed and she shit her pants, and even that was preferable to pooping at his house (when I asked her if I could use this story she said 'I stand in my truth'). That really says something about how we teach girls to be delicate pretty unobtrusive things that never offend, olfactorily or otherwise.
Aside from the philosophical quandaries that work pooping poses, I have also noticed what might amount to a secret language that seems to pervade workplace pooping situations in women's bathrooms. I myself have been guilty of each of these at one time or another.
1. The sniff -
The sniff occurs when there is a single occupant in a stall but is sitting so quietly that an entering occupant may not know she's there. The initial occupant will give a little sniff, as if to signal, "Hi, I am here waiting for the stress to release its chokehold on my bowels and let me poop before my 90 minute conference call." The intruding occupant, if also praying for the sweet relief of that triple shot latte, will also sniff, letting the original occupant that she is here to stay. Thus they entwine in the delicate dance of defecation code, sniffing and sniffing again in reply to check in. *sniff* Yes, I'm still here. *sniff* I will be a little longer. *sniff* I am sorry we have to experience this. *sniff*but isn't this what binds us together as creatures confined in an invisible yet restricting societal corset? *sniff* you know carol is sleeping with john.
2. The well-timed flush (WTF) -
Now I have not ever been able to master the well timed flush, for several reasons: either I poop what appears to be a toy dumptruck's worth of poop nuggets thus making flushing successions impossible, I am having a horrific bowel episode because I ate something and the farts, squeaks, and weeping are impossible to hide with a 5 second flush, or I get the coveted silent 10 inches and a clean wipe and one flush rules them all. I know the successful well timed flush exists though, because I have heard it. Someone sitting in a stall will flush 3 to five times in a 2 minute period. We know what you're doing, but do we? We don't have sufficient evidence and did not experience the shared embarrassment of an errant 'plop' so this remains a time-treasured public pooping hack.
3. The 'rustle whatever is immediately accessible to cover the sound'
If you are lacking the confidence necessary for the WTF - or you are nestling your cheeks on a toilet with some kind of advanced future-toilet that uses motion censors, the 'rustle shit around' is a favored method of being "discreet." Rotating the TP around on the dowel seems to be a favored method, and though it suggests to any other women in the bathroom that you may be using an entire roll of TP for one dookie sesh it is considered preferable to appear to actively destroy the environment rather than let other women know that you're taking the kids to the pool. Other rustletremonts include needlessly opening and closing the 'sanitary napkin disposal' bin and shuffling one's feet across the tiles. The godsend of all rustlers is the unopened roll of TP - loudly unwrapping it and then crumpling and uncrumpling and recrumplig the paper until it's in shreds in my sweaty palms provides just enough cover to pinch one off while simultaneously convincing whoever else is in there that you are just REALLY struggling getting your TP open.
4. The 'I'm just changing my tampon I swear'
This one is tricky and usually cannot be used on the first day of your period because PERIOD POOPS ARE THE ABSOLUTE WORST. You've been retaining water like a goddamned succulent for the past several days and now that your uterine muscles are cramping your colon muscles are like "hey! we wanna play too! WE HAVE A WATERSLIDE." And out it comes in all of it's loose, crampy, Japanese horror film glory. There is no duck and cover for that, you have to live the shame of letting your coworkers know that you poop, and fart, and have an all around explosive butthole. But day 3 your tampon and pad wrappers provide enough ambient bathroom noise to let your just barely solid again poops slide into the deep dark world of water treatment facilities.
Now, I have not spent any measurable time pooping in a men's public restroom so I can't speak to this with any authority, but preliminary conversations indicate that men's rooms do not experience the following phenomena - in fact, a Swedish friend related how horrified he was at how loud men are in public restrooms. Anything from unabashed farts, moans, grunts, and sometimes flat out verbal self praise. It makes sense, American men are raised to be aggressively masculine and fart on each other, on each other's stuff, on each other's pillows, etc as some sign of, I dunno, dominance, whereas Swedish dudes and Swedish women are kind of alike in that they have equal rights and equal bathroom etiquette. #freethefart ***see below for the best men's public poo story I have ever heard
I think as women we should poop with wanton abandon. In fact, I will take this a step further and suggest that we actually ENCOURAGE pooping by making it all more enjoyable. Prettier stalls. gentle music and waterfall installations. Champagne service. If you are going to do something 32,000 times in your life you should fucking enjoy it! And since it is often the only time many of us get alone during the day we should celebrate, honor, and cherish it. Love thy poops mamas.
***BEST POOP STORY as told by a colleague via slack:
i will forgive a fart from a stall.. because in a mens room DUH you are pooping in there. its all we do in there
[6:17]
BUT
[6:17]
i was in the stall here.... and someone went into the one next to me
[6:17]
and was making ALL SORTS of sounds... like it sounded like he was in pain
[6:17]
like of "ehhhh ehhhhh " stuff
[6:17]
then he FARTED really really loud
[6:18]
and whispered (loud enough for me to hear... but quiet enough that i think he was being polite) "Im sorry"
WHY WOULD YOU APOLOGIZE
[6:18]
WHY WOULD YOU BREAK THE 4TH WALL?!?!
[6:18]
it was the most bizarre thing ever
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