I'm not sure if its just me or if others have this problem as well, but it seems that every time I travel somewhere by car with AJ we are drawn to the world's most disgusting gas station bathrooms. Now, I am fully aware that most gas station bathrooms are inherently disgusting, but the ones I end up in seem to go above and beyond the normal expectations you might have for a gas station.
Today for example, we were driving home from an out of town wedding after having enjoyed a few libations last night. About an hour into the drive we stopped to get lunch and go potty. While D pumped gas, I took AJ with me to the restroom. I normally let her play with my purse or I sit her on my lap while I pee. Afterwards we both get a liberal dose of hand sanitizer.
This particular restroom had already thoroughly grossed me out to the point that I was seriously grossed out. I was trying to only breath through my mouth while keeping AJ's hands wrangled as far away as possible from any solid surface. D was standing outside when I walked out and I remarked to him that I would have rather left AJ out in the parking lot 100% alone than taken her into that bathroom again. D did not respond to this statement at all, and in fact was completely glassy-eyed.*
Thinking that I had met my quota of disgusting gas station bathrooms for the trip, the next time we stopped I walked right into the bathroom with AJ. Upon entering I was greeted by one of the most disturbing and confusing scenes I've seen in a long time.
The next series of events took place over the course of approximately 12 seconds.
I immediately saw a belt hanging from the stall and was confused. Who leaves their belt in a gas station bathroom? It was then that I realized that there was more to it than that. I looked a the toilet, then to the garbage can and the pieces started to come together.
Are you ready for it? In the garbage can there was a pair of (jean) shorts literally covered in poo. There was poo everywhere. I turned and walked out, and immediately got in the car to report back to D. As I was explaining to him the situation, it occurs to me that if someone took their shorts and belt off and left them in the bathroom then they either left the gas station butt-nekkid from the waist down or had to call someone to bring them clothes.
Can you imagine being on the receiving end of that phone call?
"Hi, Mom? I'm gonna need you to bring me some shorts and underpants to the gas station on Rte. 22. No, just do it!"
So there you have it folks. What progressively turned into the single worst bathroom day in my life.
*In case you're wondering why I made such a shocking remark about abandoning my 18 month old child and my husband didn't respond, I'll enlighten you.
I didn't find out at the time, but after we got home I told D I was writing this blog post and he informed me as to the reason he didn't respond to my outlandish claim. He explained that it was because he was experiencing heavy PTSD from what he had just seen in the Men's room. As he was explaining what he saw in great detail, he had to pause periodically to gag (6 hours later). Apparently, it was worse than the "shorts in the bathroom incident" that I experienced just a few short hours later.
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