Duty Calls

P.A. is a serious condition that affects at least 1% of the world. People who have P.A. have trouble in certain social situations and may seems anxious at social gatherings in a variety of settings. You may be asking what this potentially devastating condition is. To put it simply, P.A. is scientific shorthand for Poop Anxiety.

Some of you may have just stopped reading. “What a joke“, you may be saying, or “What the hell is Poop Anxiety?” For those of you who have faithfully stayed, thank you. I’m here to guide you through your newly found awareness with my own experiences.

note: Poop Anxiety simply means that in cases where an individual needs to go number 2, there exists a factor which unnerves said individual making going impossible.

I am a sufferer of P.A. Poop anxiety gets me at my most vulnerable, making it particularily troubling. It can happen anywhere; I can be at a party, staying as a guest in someone’s house, or at a restaurant. There are infinite possibilities.

I had the most trouble in my dorm room. The bathroom nearest to me had four stalls, four showers and about seven hundred sinks. At any given time, there could be upwards of twenty thousand girls in the bathroom. At any given time, about half of these girls would just stand in front of the mirror doing girly things like fixing their hair, checking every square inch of their faces, or flossing.

I on the other hand, would have wrongly assumed that at 2 a.m. most humans would have gone to bed, leaving me in peace to go. Little did I know that one girl was going to come in and stand in front of the sink for actually around 20 minutes. I couldn’t go. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And I, not knowing what to do after the tenth minute of sitting, waiting, praying for this girl tofinish up her routine,was slowly dying of awkwardness and embarassment  of being in the stall for longer than was normal. I couldn’t just get up and leave, I’d just been sitting there silently. So I did what any rational human would do in the scenario.

I pretended to cry.

Faking an emotional breakdown is silly. It’s sillier when your pajama pants are around your ankles.

You can see how emotionally crippling P.A. can be. It caused me 20+ minutes of awkward discomfort that ended in (fake) tears. Times like these are unfortunate and probably shouldn’t be discussed on the internet.

P.A. is a serious thing, and shouldn’t be taken lightly. If you suspect some one of having this while they are in the bathroom, please leave for a few moments and come back, unless you have to use the facilities before you have an accident. It’s only common courtesy. I did it the other day, and the minute the bathroom door closed, I heard the girl inside flush immediately. Point proven.

So, just be aware now that you know of P.A.

And you’re welcome.

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