I love my apartment. I love the location, I love my room, I love the view. The only downside to the three bedroom is that one of the bedrooms used to be a parlor, and the two bathrooms are inside the two original bedrooms. So, when Roommate 1 wants to pee, she has to walk through my room. Normally, I could care less about this, as I am a relatively sound sleeper and get to try out her products in the bathroom.
Now, there is one situation where this can get tricky… and that is, of course, the with the appearance of the “overnight guest.” Roommate 1 of course feels uncomfortable barging into my bedroom when I’m sharing my bed with someone, or maybe she just wants to avoid getting an eyeful of (probably drunk) awkward white people mating. (Understood.)
It was a couple hours into the bedroom-portion of the evening when I received her angry text, “It’d be nice if I had access to my bathroom…” I quickly responded for her to come in, that the coast was clear. She entered quickly, occupied the bathroom for five or ten minutes, and stalked back out again. I felt sorry for making her uncomfortable, but I had no idea how truly bad it was…
Until last night, when we were smoking cloves out the window of the living room (lest Roommate 2 come home, there was hope of tossing them and throwing ourselves back onto the couch, all innocent like, while she unlocked the door). Being an extremely talented bartender, I had made us some amazing margaritas as we watched The Darjeeling Limited. Consequently, we were feeling just lovely as we were discussing Roommate 2 and her bitchy and condescending tendencies quirky mannerisms.
It was then that she filled me in on her misadventure the previous night…
Roommate 1: We had all that wine at dinner, and I really had to pee, but I figured you were “busy” in there and I didn’t want to walk in. I had asked Roommate 2 if I could use her bathroom for the night, and she said, ‘sure, of course!’ and then slammed her door shut. Seeing as she hates me and all, I didn’t really think it was worth barging in there, since she was probably naked and would bitch about it to you the next day.
Me: Right, so that’s when you texted me…
Roommate 1: Yeah, and I came in and went into the bathroom, but then I couldn’t pee! I had stage fright, just knowing that [the overnight guest] was like 10 feet away and could hear me. I was sitting there forever, but it wasn’t happening, and being in there so long was getting embarrassing too. So finally I just gave up and walked out.
Me: Ha! That’s hilarious. I mean terrible! I had no idea… so what the hell did you do? Go in Roommate 2′s room?
Roommate 1: Nope.
Me: You… ohmygod. You didn’t. Holy shit, you peed in the kitchen sink.
Roommate 1: I had to! I didn’t have a choice!
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
Roommate 1: I didn’t know what to do! I thought about going outside, but I’m not very good at popping a squat.
Me: I know, I always end up peeing on my feet.
Roommate 1: Me too! The sink was the only option.
Me: Eh, whatev. It’s all drains anyways!
And of course, I was reminded of “The Wife” episode from Seinfeld, where George pees in the shower at the gym…
ELAINE: Since when is a drain a toilet!?
GEORGE: It’s all pipes! What’s the difference?!
ELAINE: Different pipes go to different places! You’re gonna mix ‘em up!
GEORGE: I’ll call a plumber right now!
JERRY: Alright, can we just drop all the pee-pipe stuff here?
Indeed.
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