I'd just left a seminar called "Starting Your Own Business" at Illinois State University, my beloved alma mater. The course was held in the State Farm Hall of Business, a superheroish sounding title of a building that didn't exist during my undergrad years. In fact the campus has undergone an impressive makeover during my many years away. I walked out the front door and into the fragrant Quad, taking in the sights with pride.
Then I noticed that I had to pee.
By now I'd paced a good 50 yards from the Hall. I'd parked in a tall garage that I wasn't exactly sure the quickest way to get to. I'd taken something of a roundabout path coming in, but could tell by the half-gallon pressure of the two tumblers of water I'd drank during the seminar that I'd need to take a much shorter distance back to my car.
Did I mention how much the campus had changed?
I ran into one dead end between buildings, then another. My previous "scenic" route turned out to actually be the shortest one... to get to my car required a nearly full semi-circle around the art and theater buildings. And now I'd lost increasingly precious seconds trying to find a shortcut to the promised land.
I started doing those silly power-walking strides, wondering how many of those power-walkers were actually searching feverishly for a porta-potty and thinking "There's no WAY I'm gonna wet my pants!" Since my arms were filled with seminar handouts, my phone, tumbler and a magazine, I must have looked like a bird trying to take flight for the first time to the handful of students straggling about.
I thought back to the one time, in first grade, when as an adultaphobe I couldn't bring myself to ask permission to go to the bathroom, with disgusting results. Then I thought, "WHY am I thinking about this???"
Defcon 5 alert. No chance of getting to my car, let alone my condo. Nearest bathroom is Stevenson Hall, a football field away.
Distract yourself. Count down the number of seconds until you get there.
Fifty... forty-nine... forty-eight...
Aw, hell... SPRINT!
I waddle-jogged to the Hall, moving at maximum non-bladder-churning speed.
Would it still be open at this late hour...? pleasepleasepleaseplease....
YES!
Hippity-hopped down the hallway.
Throw open the door.
Drop my seminar materials skidding all over the restroom floor in random directions.
Whirl toward the wall of urinals like a cartoon character.
Unzipped my fly with speed that would've dizzied the Flash.
Paydirt, and a near-wailing sigh of relief echoing off the walls that must have put quite a spook into whoever was sitting in the stall along the other end of the room. I washed my hands, rounded up my property, and slipped quietly out the door.
Even twenty years later, I continue to learn great lessons from ISU.
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