Shitshow
May, 2001
I’m not a great pooper. I don’t bring a magazine in with me to relax. I don’t keep the door open so I can watch my shows while I’m going. In fact, I’ll even put off doing the deuce until it absolutely positively can’t stay inside of my body for one minute longer. Then when I finally do go, I force it out as fast as I can. I’ve got more important shit to do!
On top of never finding the time to poop, I hate talking about it with people or acknowledging that it even happens. Unlike Slutty Co-worker! That woman will literally excuse herself from the middle of a yoga session by announcing to the class, “Be right back, gotta take a crap.” And, when teaching certain positions, she’ll shout out, “If you’re not farting, you’re not doing it right!” At first I was mortified, but apparently our clients find all of her potty-talk charming because she’s booked solid every single week. But me, if I have to go at work, I’ll sneak off when I know everyone else is out to lunch and that’s ONLY when it’s an absolute poop emergency! I’ll never drop a bomb at a party, a friend’s house, or a restaurant. I’d rather die than shit in public! Which is why 99.9% of my pooping occurs when I’m alone in my cottage. Which is why, now that Leo has moved in, I’m up shit creek. And, it’s with his suggestion that we grab some Mexican food for dinner that I nervously wonder…will I ever poop again?
Yeah, yeah…I know it’s natural to poop and everyone does it. It’s the very fact that everyone DOES poop that’s gotten me through a lot of personal challenges in my life. No matter who I’m in a business deal with or what beautiful movie star I’m admiring on TV, I can never get too intimidated or awe struck because in the back of my mind I’m thinking…that person sat on the shitter this morning and wiped his ass. Jennifer Aniston does it, the President of the United States does it, every-single-human-being does it! That being the case, NOBODY can ever be better than me. I’m serious! Look around the room right now and zero in on the most attractive person you can find. Now, imagine them squeezing one out. See? They aren’t so great now, are they? Well, for a long time I relished in the thought that Leo didn’t think anyone could be better than me. But, now that I’m sitting at Senior Colorado’s and staring down at my burrito especial, I bet that won’t be the case once I turn into his Mexican food shitting girlfriend. Shit.
“What’s wrong baby, not hungry?”
I’m super hungry, starved actually. But, my hope is that two bites of this stuff won’t piss off my colon and I can hold it together until he leaves for work in the morning.
Then I look at his plate of food, beans and all, and realize, holy shit, Leo poops too. I mean, I don’t mind. He’s a man and men shit. But the bathroom in the cottage is right next to the bedroom! WILL I HEAR IT? When will he do it? Tonight? Tomorrow before work? Jesus, what a nightmare! Shhhhhhh, calm down, Chrissy! Remember what Dr. Maria said… When you go from one relationship to another you just trade in one set of problems for another. Okay, I realize pooping isn’t technically classified as a problem, but it sure is the beginning of this relationship turning into something ho-hum. I’ve been watching the clock and counting down the days until Leo officially moved in, but now that it has happened, I sure wish I had eaten more burritos and shit a whole lot more while I was waiting for it.
Returning to the cottage after dinner, I pretended to need something from the grocery store, and I slipped out to give Leo time to settle in privately. No need to propel this living arrangement into something that feels like we’ve been together for twenty years quite yet.
An hour later, I sink in next to him in bed where he’s freshly showered, smelling heavenly, and drifting off to sleep. As I’m lying on his chest listening to him breathe, I’m so grateful for the second (or I guess, in my case, fifth) chance to be with him. I start thinking about the first nervous night I walked into his apartment. As he gently placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me in, I nervously wondered what would happen next. Once inside, my eyes darted around in every direction looking for clues about him. Everything about that night was exciting, and I envied single people everywhere for being able to have that anxious rush all of the time. I vaguely remember experiencing the same rush when Kurt and I were first together. It died off pretty quickly though…right about the time he took me four wheeling and rifle shooting a few months after we met. I never want the rush to go away with Leo, and I wonder for a second if I stupidly fast-tracked the whole moving-in-together thing. I mean, now that we’re cohabitating, I’ll never be able to experience the rush of him picking me up for a date. You know that exciting moment when you open the door after having spent hours showering, drinking wine, listening to loud music and picking out the most perfect outfit and you imagine him doing the same (well…in a fraction of the time and with beer). Those moments are already gone for us because we’ll be getting ready together. And there’s no mystery about whose bed we’ll be waking up in. I’ve already ripped myself off of that thrill by narrowing the choice down to one. I bet it won’t be long before Leo realizes I actually do poop, that I have incredibly unforgiving periods, that I prefer to sleep in baggy sweats over lingerie, and that I’m secretly obsessed with re-runs of The Golden Girls. And what about his weird stuff? What if he farts in his sleep? What if I catch him picking his nose… scratching his balls…hawking a loogie when brushing his teeth? Before I fall into my own deep sleep, I wonder...Did I rush into this living arrangement?
“I miss you!”
“You just saw me three months ago. You can’t miss me that much.”
“We usually do this every month though. Why did we get off schedule?”
Kelly’s always been a pale girl, but not right now. Her eyes are bright and her cheeks are rosy. She looks more alive than ever.
“There really is no schedule here. They say it takes time to adjust to that.”
Shoving garlic cheese fries into my mouth, “Who’s they?”
“You’ll find out one day.”
“Dude, what’s going on with you? It’s like you’re talking in circles or something.”
Playfully throwing pieces of bread at me she says, “What’s going on with me? More like, what’s going on with you?!”
“What the heck did I do?”
“You stayed with Kurt.”
I abruptly stop dodging the bread and stare at her, confused.
“No, I didn’t. Did I?”
“Didn’t look like you were going to, but you did.”
Shaking my head in frustration because I can’t seem to remember shit from crap to set her straight, “Kel, how come I don’t know what my life is like?”
She stands as she says, “I don’t think you have it figured out yet.”
“Wait, why are you leaving?”
“I’m still busy settling in, and I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Settling in where?”
“Sorry, Chrissy, but I don’t know if I can be here next month either. Things are constantly changing.”
“What are you talking about? Nothing’s changing! This is what we do! We eat the same crappy food and drink the same stupid drinks. It’s a tradition!”
Totally confused, I stand up and watch her walk away. But then she turns, runs back to me giggling and whispers in my ear, “Guess what? You’re about to be a mommy.” And then she disappears into the mad rush of happy hour at Chili’s.
With the sheets drenched in sweat, I bolt straight up in bed and scream at the top of my lungs, “KELLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”
“Baby, baby, baby, it’s me! You’re having a bad dream!”
Leo grabs me tightly to try and stop the trembling.
My eyes dart around the room looking for her, before I tell him, “Kelly was here!”
“She’s not, Chrissy. You were having a dream.”
“No, it wasn’t a dream! Her voice was crystal clear!”
“Baby, I just came back from getting a glass of water, you were sound asleep.”
“NO, LEO! SHE TALKED TO ME!”
“Okay, okay, okay, I believe you. What’d she say?”
Clutching my stomach, “She said…she said…”
“It’s okay, you can tell me.”
“She said she loves me.”
What? It’s not a lie. It’s an omission. Completely different.
With Leo gently rubbing my back as I try to fall back asleep, I think, wow…dodging poop and talking to dead people. Yep, probably rushed things a little.