Tag Archives: library

Know Your Triggers

2 May

*Here’s a little known secret about Yours Truly:  Libraries make me poop.

You don't say.

I can’t explain it.  If I’m in a library for more than five minutes, I gotta go.

Part of the mystery that is my poop trigger is that it doesn’t matter  if I use the restroom before I leave or when I arrive.  Five minutes+a library=Poop. 

 When I was in elementary school, the computer lab which stored our Commodore 64s was located in the library.  I was too young, then, to pinpoint my poop trigger, but my teacher was all over it.  Everyday on my way to the library my teacher would make sure I visited the little girl’s room.  It was all in vain, however.  Without fail, five minutes into class, I had to go. 

In high school I avoided taking study halls because they were located in the library.  The hump back librarian (she literally had a hump back) was not very subtle. Every bathroom pass she handed out was accompanied with the announcement:  “You have five minutes.”    I’m sorry, but you can’t rush such things.   So, I didn’t take study hall.  I instead opted for Spanish V, which I didn’t need. 

College was particularly challenging as I was a frequent visitor to the library, and it’s bathrooms.  My favorite study nook was located in the music section of the library next to a window that overlooked the lake.  The problem was that my preferred bathroom was on the 2nd floor (the toilets on the 3rd floor were weak flushers, and the locks on the stalls never worked). 

Everyday, I would unpack my backpack, set everything up just the way I like it,  and five minutes later I would pack everything up for my shameful dash to the 2nd floor.  This happened every day.  Frustrating.

On Saturday Son informed me 15 minutes before our public library was closing for the weekend that he needed to check out some books for a paper he will be working on this week.  I knew I could get him there in five minutes, but he would need my help if he was going to find all of his books before closing time.  That would take at least……………………five minutes.

I had no choice. If we were going to be successful I had to explain my poop trigger to Son.   I explained to him that he needed to be on his game, attentive, and thorough on his search for the books.  We agreed to divide his list, split up, and meet at the checkout desk in precisely five minutes.  (It should be noted that Son did not bat an eyelash.  He is used to my weirdness and likes a challenge).  We pulled into the parking lot, made a bet on who would be done first, and went our separate ways.

Our mission was successful. 

We were celebrating our awesomeness on our way out the door when I heard someone call my name.  *Stopped dead in my tracks*  It was an old teacher of mine.  I didn’t have time.  It wouldn’t take long for my body to realize where I was.  If I stayed and chatted the only thing I would have heard was “blah, blah, blah, I HAVE TO POOP, blah.”

Son saw the panic wash over me and…..this brings a tear to my eye….he saved me.  He politely interrupted, introduced himself, and with a wink reminded me that we had to get to the store before it closed.  With that, we were free to go, and I was very grateful. 

Am I teaching Son how to lie?  Yes.  Yes I am.  However,  I’m also teaching him to someday save his wife or girlfriend from having to talk to someone she hasn’t seen in years when she really has to poop.  I think that’s a very valuable lesson.

*This isn’t true at all.  In fact, I think a lot of people knew this about me.  It’s also now on the internet so it’s not really a secret anymore.  So, nevermind the “secret” part.

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