Fans of Jammin’ with Jeff know that I go to a lot of rock concerts with my dad (sometimes with disastrous results). The other night, I went with him to a sold-out show at Chicago’s iconic Metro theater, and I was treated to a great show…and nearly another disaster.
But fear not! This tale has a happy ending!
The Walkmen were a successful Indie Rock band who released seven albums between 2000 and 2013 before disbanding. They’re known for passionate, upbeat tunes like The Rat and ballads like Heaven.
They recently reunited and launched a nationwide tour, including four shows in Chicago. My dad immediately snagged tickets for the first night.
Before the concert, we grabbed tacos and margaritas at the nearby Big Star before heading to the show. I had the Al Pastor and the Walking Taco, which is mostly beans and cheese inside a bag of Fritos. In retrospect, that might have been a dangerous decision.
The concert was great and after the show, it was time to bike home.
The Metro is about two and a half miles my condo. My dad drove in from the suburbs, but I didn’t want to bother him by asking him to go out of his way, so I walked my bike to where he was parked and started my journey home.
The ride was going smoothly – I’ve made the trip many times and I know how to navigate the bike lanes of Chicago.
I turned onto my street with just four blocks to go when something…felt wrong. A gurgling in my guts.
Damn you, Walking Taco!
I had to do some quick calculus. I was biking at about 10 miles an hour on a busy Chicago street, constantly being passed by vehicles, and with few options to pull over.
When I crossed the next intersection, I tried to casually pull over to give myself time while standing with my bike at a bus stop. A convenient excuse to say, “Oh I’m just waiting for the bus, not trying to hold in a poo.”
Everyone has their own method to clench in an emergency situation. Here’s how I manage and since we’re always honest at Poopable, I have had previously documented instances of defecating in very public places.
Needless to say, I have experience navigating a gut wrenching situation.
So at this point, I had to assess my situation quite seriously. Realistically, I couldn’t just drop my drawers in public. However, there were no alleys were nearby, and I was not too keen on setting myself up for a criminal indecency charge.
I could have given up and just let nature happen, clean up later, maybe with a long… long… shame shower.
But, dear reader, I am not a quitter.
I pulled over and I bought myself more time
Standing next to my bike at the bus stop, I subtly crossed my legs, slightly lowered my center of gravity…and clenched.
It was a harrowing three minutes. Veins bulging in my neck. Sweat pouring out. And a lot of me saying,
“You can do this. You can do this.”
I gathered myself and hopped back on the bike. Three blocks to go.
There was one more street light to get past…when it turned red, my heart sunk.
So I stepped off the bike, and once again clenched.
I got off the bike again and clenched. This wasn’t going to end me. I would persevere. The light turns green. I’m a block and a half away from home.
My condo complex has a bike room, which I can access through an alley.
Sadly, it is a bumpy alley… full of potholes.
My stomach churned. My mind reeled.
I’m so close. So close.
At Poopable, we want to tell you all things poopable. My columns often have involved stories that let you know, it’s okay if you spray. It’s fine if you don’t make the bathroom in time.
But this story is a story of hope.
I brought my bike into the bike room and then…I have three flights of stairs until I get to my front door.
I go up one flight.
I stop. I clench. I strain every muscle in my body.
I go up another flight.
I stop. I clench.
Oh God, I’m almost there. I have to make it. I HAVE to make it.
I stumble up the last flight. I fumble for my keys. When I open my front door, I drop my coat on the floor and sprint to the bathroom.
The situation is dire. My body is not following my game plan.
I made it!
At the very last moment, I drop my pants and sit on the throne, just in time to handle the situation. No mess, no fuss, just a lot of toilet paper and a huge sigh of relief.
It was a rock show miracle.