The Keys to Relief

We’ve all been there. You have a big queasy going-on in your stomach and you’re barreling down the road at ninety miles an hour thinking you have to be close to the next exit. Finally, lights and eighty-foot signs appear around the bend and you know that relief is within your clenched grasp. But, which sign contains your porcelain Eden?

Slightly less challenging, but equally formidable is when your uneasy gurgles to the surface in a nightclub. Finding a good reason to excuse yourself and fighting the crowds on the dance floor only to discover a john right in the middle of an empty room with no walls and no door that opens up to the entire dance party is a picture of defeat. Can you convince anyone that you’re doing a new dance called the Hawking?

That’s where I come in, the Regent of Relief, your Titan of Toilets, for I go to the bathroom well. I go to the bathroom very well.

Let’s just start off with basic preparedness, as trying to instruct you on something this advanced will just lead to internal injuries. (I will tell you, it involves a shoeshine brush, a bar stool, a Harry Dunne, a Lloyd Christmas, a Michael Winslow and a pack of peanut M&Ms.)

It started with a burrito. How do I know? It always starts with a burrito. Those delicious cylinders of jumbled flavors could tempt a Republican into supporting welfare. It’s impossible to avoid them, as they are one of the four basic food groups. (Burritos, Doughnuts, Coffee, Etc.) So, we know the enemy and he is we. He is us? He is we.

In the immortal words of Peter Schilling, the countdown starts. If you’re traditional person and enjoy a post-dining trip to the cinema, you’re in luck, since movie theaters are your friends. Why? You’re not ready for why. Does the nut ask the squirrel how to taste delicious? Does the plane ask the cloud about breakfast cereals? You find a movie theater; you’ll find your tiled paradise and afterwards have room for that tub of popcorn, which is a big part of the “etc.” category.

Of course, the world is not filled with movie theaters. Yes, you might think that would be magical, until that day they are all showing “Old Dogs.” In fact, sometimes, you might find yourself outdoors. Maybe you’re in the wilderness or maybe just at all day Phish concert. Either way, things could get grim as you’re either surrounded by wolves or by patchouli-scented dirt bags, neither of which are good for digestion. The best advice is not to go outside for three hours after eating a burrito and never to go to a Phish concert. Unless you’re a smoking hot hippie chick, then yeah, I love “Reba” too.

Ok, next tip, and it comes in the form of a mnemonic device so that you can easily remember: doors on the outside, relief denied; doors on the inside, make it deep-fried. Don’t worry about what it means, just remember it. If you decide to ask questions, you must first tell me all about King Phillip’s trip from great Spain in glorious detail.

Lastly, even if it is your Mom and Dad, avoid businesses owned by a Mom and a Dad. If not, you’ll end up having this conversation:

“Where have you been?”
“Why don’t you call?”
“Are you going to buy something?”
“Mom, Dad, let me speak. You never listen to me.”
“Our restrooms are for customers only.”
“You always liked my sister better.”
“I will call the police.”

At this point, I suggest a small soda. Happy relief!