Home bowl syndrome

[HejiraHenry]

Jesus, this kills me every time we go out of town.

 

[Rhody31]

I feel your pain Henry.
It takes me a while to get comfortable not going at my house. I will only use a public one if I absolutely have to and can't stand going at a bar or restaurant.
I don't mind using the one at work, but it freaks me out that people might be able to hear my so I slip my headphones on and blast my iPhone so I can't hear anything. I figure if I can't, they can't.
One of my buddies was even worse. He would literally leave gatherings to drive an hour home so he could use the bathroom. Finally, last summer, he got over it.

 

[JackReacher]

I never, ever use the one at work. Everyone in the building drinks 8 cups of coffee before 9 a.m. Not the best time to hit the head. Then, 8 more cups by lunchtime.

And Coasties, I've learned, have zippy shame. They don't care how badly they stink or how much noise they make.

Just a disaster. I always wait until I get home. I have an amazing ability to do that, even in situations I think might make me break my streak at 8 or 9 a.m. One of my few talents.

 

[Bodie_Broadus]

I have used public toilets twice in my life. Never even used the ones at work.

 

[BYH]

It doesn't bother me when I go out of town, but I hate wasting a good one outside of the hotel. Did that twice last weekend. Bummer.

 

[HejiraHenry]

I'll use a broad definition of "home," which includes work, but any time we hit the road I'm in trouble.

 

[JackReacher]

Oh, hotels are best, especially Marriotts. Big bathrooms, lots of flushing power.

Best "home bathroom" ever was in Hanover Hall at Mason. Hurricane Hanover, we called it. No matter what you ate for lunch or dinner, Hanover's bowls could handle it. It was worth the five-minute walk (or sprint) from the dorms.

 

[SixToe]

Anywhere's fine with me. Someone's house, office, woods ... when ya' gotta, ya' gotta.

 

[Batman]

No matter what you ate for lunch or dinner, Hanover's bowls could handle it.

That ought to be the tagline for their bowls.
I remember Steve Czaban once had an entire segment of his old radio show devoted to the toughest places to earn a "road win." He compared an airplane bowl to Cameron Indoor. Funny stuff. I think the winner, though, was your standard issue ****hole bar. Those places are like taking on the '86 Celtics at the Garden.

 

[Sleeper]

Henry, I feel your pain. Same thing happens to me. Something odd happens to my body when I go on the road. And it's not because I'm squeamish about using a public restroom. I go all the time at work. And at restaurants, at friends' houses, at Trader Joe's, at the park, at Starbucks, at the arena, at the gym, at my parents' house, at the library, at Borders ...

 

[Batman]

One of my philosophies of life, and I will swear by this to my dying day, is that one of the greatest things about being an adult is being able to head to the head for 10 or 15 minutes without remorse or shame. Back when you're in school, it's impossible. If you gotta take your talents to South Beach, you miss a quarter of the class and the teacher and your classmates give you weird looks when you return. And that's if you're even able to go. The douchebag stoners always seemed to think it was funny to **** on the paper. Or they somehow escaped the school with the doors to the stalls. Where the **** did those things go? Did the wood shop use them for scrap wood?
You can't squeeze one out between classes because you only have four or five minutes, plus you have to deal with the stoners smoking in there -- probably as they watch you and laugh at your contortions, since they stole the ****ing door and pissed on the paper.
God help you if the cafeteria served tacos that day. Those ****ing sadists.
I'd love to see a study of the number of kids with Hirschsprung's Disease or Colitis in our nation's public schools. It's got to be through the roof.

 

[Sleeper]

I remember Steve Czaban once had an entire segment of his old radio show devoted to the toughest places to earn a "road win." He compared an airplane bowl to Cameron Indoor. Funny stuff. I think the winner, though, was your standard issue ****hole bar. Those places are like taking on the '86 Celtics at the Garden.

Buses are the worst. Much more motion than an airplane, cramped and everyone on board pretty much knows what you're doing. Harder than trying to run the ball against the '85 Bears.

 

[JackReacher]

Rundown convienence stores/bingo halls in Texarkana are the worst. Especially the ones that are house the only bathroom within 20 miles and where you have to walk through 9 different hallways to find the bathroom, which is sans stall doors. Just a horrifying experience, but like someone said earlier...sometimes when ya gotta go, ya gotta go.

 

[linotype]

You mean this isn't about UCLA in the Rose or Miami in the Orange?

 

[Rumpleforeskin]

I've never had a problem dropping a deuce in most locations - home, school, in the middle of a forest, at work, etc. - but I will never take one in the bathroom of a bar.

 

[Sam Mills 51]

Outing alert: HH is

 

[dieditor]

If you gotta take your talents to South Beach...

This is GOLD.

 

[Corky Ramirez up on 94th St.]

I have IBS - not bad, but it's always there to give me a pat on the back, so to speak - so I long ago shed whatever phobias I may have about pooping in random places. I have at Fenway Park, a McDonalds in Rome that had no toilet paper, the woods, outhouses.

What is it about being in a public place that you fear? Is the sound? Smell? The look on someone's face when you walk out the stall? This is a serious question. At work, I just find the bathroom that I know no one will be around and do my business there. If I'm at a bar, I either try to find one that's not in the main firing line or see if there's a Dunkin' Donuts nearby. If not, it's time to load up on the ginger ale early.

The worst was some public place in a town in Italy that only had two porcelain blocks to put your feet and a hole in the ground. No door, no walls, nothing. You're pooping right next to some guy who's taking a leak into another hole in the ground. Talk about mortifying. I just bit my lip, turned around and ran into an alley that was secluded.

 

[schiezainc]

My only real problem (And this is definitely TMI by the way) is that, when I'm dumping, I like to have room for my legs to spread out and I need to relax.

I don't mind going in public places but, obviously, home field advantage is preferred. When I'm at home, I can take off all my clothes (that's the TMI part), sit on the bowl with my laptop and go as long as I want.

My wife thinks it's insane to do anything but sit, **** and split but I love being in there for 15-20 minutes just having some 'me' time.

 

[BYH]

Oh, hotels are best, especially Marriotts. Big bathrooms, lots of flushing power.

Best "home bathroom" ever was in Hanover Hall at Mason. Hurricane Hanover, we called it. No matter what you ate for lunch or dinner, Hanover's bowls could handle it. It was worth the five-minute walk (or sprint) from the dorms.

Hilarious. When I was in college (at a place you may or may not be familiar with :)) I LOVED the ****ter on the first floor. It was tucked out of sight, behind the soda machines and parallel with the pay phones (those 25 or younger: "Pay phones?"). The only person who knew about it was the guy or gal in the booth buzzing people in and out. I don't even know how I found it, it might have been an emergency thing, but it was like finding a sweet parallel universe in which I didn't have to worry about someone taking a **** in the stall next to me or strolling in and singing at the urinal or singing in the shower.

Anyway, every Monday night I'd order a pizza and wolf it down with a couple beers while watching Monday Night Football and planning my next couple days (our newspaper printed on Wednesday and I basically didn't sleep from the time I got up Tuesday morning until the time I crashed Thursday morning). And once the game was over, I'd walk, very carefully, down to the first floor (I lived on the second floor most of my time there) and unload the full fury of my bowels upon that poor unsuspecting tucked away bathroom. And then I'd strut out of there and nod at the poor ******* in the booth and hope he didn't have to use it in the next eight hours. I was now ready to begin my 48 Hours of Hell.

Oh man. I loved that place. I may go to a nearby bar for a MNF game and then stroll over to campus and take a **** there this year, just for old time's sake. :D :D :D