Published: 5.20.11

        Jill had never felt a sensation quite like it.  It was just like in the movies.  Where the guy gets the laxative poured in his drink by his smart-ass friends.  And he rushes to the bathroom with that squishy, twisted face.  It was just like that.
        Except Jill was standing in a line of fifteen utterly snide women in a small gas station four hundred miles from just about everything.  Jill looked back to her car, parked at pump number six.
        Inside that car, her father sat.  They hadn’t said a word to each other in the last three states.  This was supposed to be a trip for him.  But, Jill was sure this was no help and his mind was wandering back home.
        However, Jill’s mind was up in flames with hatred for every other woman within a ten-mile radius and the architect who didn’t design enough toilets in this bathroom.
        But, what Jill hated most of all was men.  She glared at the men’s bathroom door.  They came and went.  They were in an out in a matter of seconds.  Seconds.
        Jill was about to burst.  If the woman behind Jill leaned a bit forward and accidentally caressed an elbow into Jill’s back she would surely explode all over this already filthy gas station.
        But Jill waited.  And waited.
        FINALLY!  Someone left the bathroom.  The line moved forward.
        Jill just kept thinking about her sad father, her full bladder and the real reason for the trip. 
        Sure, losing her mother was hard.  But, you know what’s harder?  Losing your mother and then losing your boyfriend.  The thought of it brought bitter, swollen tears to Jill’s eyes.
        Jill tried convincing herself she wasn’t crying because of Mitch.  She was crying because the liquids in her body had nowhere else to go.  They had to escape from her eyes.  And then she thought of Mitch’s new girlfriend.  He was probably kissing her at this exact…
        “Fuck this!”  Jill pushed the woman in front of her aside.  Jill was done.  She was going to explode.  Emotionally and physically.  Without even the slightest hesitation Jill threw open the men’s bathroom door. 
        The place was empty.  Two urinals and three stalls.  Jill walked to the end stall and slammed the door shut.  She sat with a busied fury and let loose.

        Moments later, Jill felt at peace.  Her body was empty.  Time to hit the road.  But…
        “Oh, no.”  Jill grabbed for the toilet paper.  Gone.  What would she do?  She couldn’t try to move to another toilet, it was about six minutes and four pounds too late for that.  She could Google the number to the store and call them.  Tell them the predicament.  Yes.  Great idea.  So, Jill pulled out her phone.  But, then…
        “Look down,” a voice echoed.  Terrified, Jill looked to her feet.  A man’s hand was stuck under the divider, holding a roll of toilet paper.
        “Oh my god.”
        “That was absolutely insane.”
        “Oh my god.”
        The voice laughed.  A genuine laugh.  “I thought girls didn’t poop.”
        “Oh my god.”  Jill couldn’t even take the toilet paper.  The voice’s hand put the paper on the ground next to her shoe.
        “This is an awful way to start off our friendship.  You’re gonna be exploding diarrhea girl.  Forever.”  The voice waited for a response.  But, nothing.  Now Jill was crying, but for completely new and awful reasons.  “Are you crying because it hurts?  Or because I heard you?  Or is it something else?”
        Jill didn’t even know.  There was too much to cry about.
        “One time, a few years ago, I was in middle school.”  Jill’s cry turned into an outburst of laughter.  A snort.  This guy had to be almost thirty years old.  “Sorry.  I use the ‘few years ago’ too loosely.  Seventeen years ago I had a mess brewing inside my stomach.  Alison A was sitting in the seat behind me.  And she could tell I was squirming like a sonuvabitch.  I hated her guts like a lightbulb hates the sun.”
        “What does that mean?”
        “And I was letting out these soft, silent squeakers.  Hoping no one would notice.  But, of course Alison A noticed.  And she decided to tell everyone.  Right in the middle of Miss Kaller’s lesson.”
        “That bitch.”  Jill had almost forgotten about her predicament.  She sat, hand under her chin, the slightest smile on her face.
        “Exactly.  And so now everyone knows I’ve got some major stuff going down.  And they start chanting.  ‘Don’t crap, Jack!  Don’t crap, Jack!’  But you could tell they wanted me to.  Right there.”
        “Your name’s Jack?”
        “Yeah.  And little Jack ran out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.  But, he didn’t make it.  He left a terrible, horrible mess all over the halls of Lincoln Middle School.”
        “Oh, Jack.”
        “I know.”
        “So, what’d you do?  Did you become the high school quarterback and show those kids it doesn’t matter how awful your bowel movements may be?  That you can still turn out okay?”
        “I moved school districts.  And I did play football, but when we played my hometown the kids had signs smeared with melted chocolate.  And they still yelled ‘Don’t crap, Jack!”
        “Why would you tell me that terribly humiliating story?”
        “Because I’m gonna let you clean up and leave.  And I’m never going to see you.  So even if I wanted to, I would never be able to make fun of you.  I could never tell anyone what happened here.  There were officially no witnesses”
        Jill smiled.
        “Thank you, Jack.”
        “You’re welcome…”
        “Jill.”
        Jack laughed.  “Right.  Keep it anonymous.  Jack and Jill.  That’s a good idea.”
        Jill thought about correcting him.  Telling him that her name actually was Jill.  But, why did it matter? 
        And as Jill left the bathroom, Jack didn’t even try to sneak a peek through the slit in the bathroom stall.  He just smiled.  He’d never told anyone that story. 

        And he never would again.