The Plane Dilemma

Recently I was flying back from a trip I had taken to the Midwest with my wife. The flight was barely over an hour and when we landed our plane was delayed almost 30 minutes before we could actually unload at the gate.

As I sat with the other passengers waiting for an explanation of our delay, I realized that the diet drink I had during the flight along with an energy drink I downed before boarding the plane were now creating an escalating urge to find a bathroom. Don’t ask why I needed an energy drink to sit cramped in a window seat for an hour on a plane. Most people who don’t like to fly will have a cocktail or something that takes the anxiety edge off of the flight. I opted for a beverage that temporarily heightened all of my senses so that I could experience the full impact of my fear, but that’s not the point.

The point is finding a restroom became my primary objective at that moment. Weighing my options I determined the best plan of action would be to pass on the airplane facility (if I disliked being cramped in a window seat why would I be interested in urinating in an area smaller than my coat closet?). Besides, trying to navigate my way down the aisle through the already impatient passengers somehow seemed more unpleasant than the pain I was experiencing in my bladder.

Baggage Claim Delay

As I finally inched my way down the aisle along with my wife (no, she was not aware of my dilemma and why would I tell her…she isn’t my mother) and off of the plane, we headed for the baggage claim area to pick up our luggage. I of course was in full surveillance mode looking for a sign, any sign indicating a designated area I could relieve myself.

What cruel law of the universe is set in motion when you absolutely must find a restroom immediately and by an unexplainable twist of fate they have all vanished? Just like that. Gone. You look around to see if anyone else has noticed this. Are there guys standing off in the corner grimacing with their legs crossed at the ankles hoping someone can point them in the right direction before they have a public accident?

We reached our baggage claim area (of course our bags were not revolving on the carousel yet) and it was then I realized I was in full crisis mode. The ticking clock was about to expire and when it did my personal crying game would turn into a public humiliation. I informed my unsuspecting wife that she would be responsible for locating our bags and I headed off on my quest for the nearest bathroom.

Public Restroom Quest

I looked to my left and then to my right and on a gut instinct I chose walking to my left. It’s 50-50 right? As briskly as I could stride without soiling myself I moved down the corridor of the airport. Not too far ahead I could see a sign attached to the wall with a symbol on it. Anticipation grew as I got closer to the sign hoping that when it came into focus it would in fact be the male/female symbols for the public restrooms.

Had I needed to make a phone call, had I needed to reach out and touch someone at that moment, I would not have been happier. Unfortunately I did not and the disappointment of the wrong symbols being on the sign and the false hope I had built up were disturbing to say the least.

I continued to stride past the phone sign unwilling to break my pace for fear I could not start up again without complications. Finally my persistence was rewarded and there in front of me was the entrance to all I had been looking for… the men’s public bathroom!

Bathroom Paranoia

In my mind’s eye I envisioned entering the restroom and walking directly up to the nearest urinal to do my business without having to wait. After all, it is typically the women’s restroom that tends to bottleneck with traffic. Guys are in and out like moving through an express lane.

As I rounded the corner to get my first glimpse of urinal selection a harsh and disappointing reality set in. The place was packed. It was standing room only. All urinals and stalls were occupied and there was a line to boot. What am I in here, a football stadium? Did a game just get out somewhere? Were these guys in the same plane I just got off of going through the same “bladder hell’ that I was? More importantly if they were, how did they beat me here? The questions came relentlessly as I took a spot in line.

Now that I was standing and waiting my turn the “urge to go” became overwhelming. I began speculating which guy would finish first to move the line along more quickly. I hoped every guy was paying close attention as a urinal opened so there would be no down time ( kind of like the light changing to green at an intersection and the guy in front of you isn’t paying attention…he makes it through the light, you don’t). I could not let that happen here. If I needed to expedite traffic flow I had no problem with that.

Standing there also gave me time to think about how much I don’t like public restrooms. Forget the cleanliness part of it, I’m talking the fact that it is public and frankly using the toilet is rather private. Not much else in our society that is legal and described as public involves unzipping, unbuttoning or otherwise partially removing articles of clothing in order to do something. Somehow public restrooms are different.

I snapped out of my neurosis just in time to realize a spot on the wall opened up and I was next in line. Proudly and with some sense of accomplishment I stepped forward as if actually locating a public bathroom in an airport deserved some recognition. I made it! I have arrived! For all I know there are other poor suckers out there still wandering around and hoping to stumble on what I wisely discovered.

Worst Nightmare

As I proceeded through the necessary steps to finally get the relief I so urgently pursued the previous 45 minutes, my worst nightmare occurred ( well, I mean given the circumstances at that moment ). I COULD NOT GO! There I stood in all of my glory having rightfully assumed my place on the wall only to fire a blank. I obviously had to go. My body was communicating to me quite clearly that this was a task requiring immediate attention. I was listening and did everything I was supposed to up to this point but to no avail.

Not lost in the moment was the fact that the line behind me was still growing. Guys potentially were as desperate and deserving I might add as I was to get their chance. Standing there I attempted to mentally trick myself into relaxing and performing by thinking of everything from waterfalls to squirt guns. As people on either side of me stepped up, finished their business and walked away I sensed resentment mounting that I was monopolizing a spot. Oh the humiliation!

Lessons Learned

Eventually I was able to do what I was there to do and the sense of relief both physically and mentally cannot be described adequately. It seemed as if I stood there forever waiting, praying, hoping when in fact in could not have been more than five, maybe seven minutes tops.

As we must learn from our experiences or we are destined to repeat the unpleasant ones, I will probably take a few things from this event. Energy drinks are over hyped and should not be consumed before flights. They don’t give you wings as advertised or otherwise I would have been able to avoid the whole plane fiasco and flown myself directly to the nearest restroom.

Small spaces like airplane restrooms should be utilized if the alternative is bladder damage. While inconvenient and often unpleasant they do serve as an emergency option. The fact that a coat closet is bigger is probably irrelevant.

There is no shame (not much) in asking someone where the nearest restroom might be located. It is probably better than the 50-50 coin toss approach and your wife will never need to know you actually stopped to ask. Protecting the sanctity of the “don’t ask” rule for men is critically important.