When Ya Gotta Go, Ya Gotta...Hold It

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Not that I'm lacking any ideas for blog posts right now, but I just got home from my latest shoot downtown and I've got some ranting I want to do...for no other reason than it kinda blew my mind as it was happening...luckily it didn't blow my bladder.

I'm a coffee drinker...lattes to be more specific. The magic of coffee is that it seems to exit faster than it enters. Accordingly, I'm used to frequent trips to the ladies room after my latte...or two...or three.Today was a 2 latte kinda day. I got on the subway at Canal Street & 6th Avenue. If you're familiar with NYC, you know that I had a bit of a hike ahead of me back to the Bronx via train. I got on the A train and got off at 42nd Street. I figured since I was in Times Square, it would be a good place to make a pit stop and pay the consequences, so to speak, of my lattes. I made my way to the nearest restroom and it was locked. It was no big deal, I would take the shuttle to Grand Central and use the facility there.

I took the 7 train and walked through Grand Central to the next restroom. Locked. I walked over to a nearby  police officer who was standing on his trusty...his trusty ummm...I can't remember the name of the funny little stand-up bicycle-thing...I tried to google just those words, but nothing came up- man, Google is slippin. Haha. But I digress...when I aked him about the nearest open restroom, he said I'd have to leave through the turnstile to get to an open public restroom....which meant I would have to pay for another subway ride that I had already paid for. When I asked him why the restroom was locked during business hours, he just looked at me and said, "MTA." Ugh. I'm not cheap, but it was the principal that I objected to...so I made my way to the 5 train for my final transfer and home stretch of my journey.

I put my iPod on and tried to distract myself with slow music...I feared anything with an up-tempo might make matters worse. As I approached E.180th Street, I contemplated getting off just to use the restroom. It was the only subway station that I knew had one, but I figured it was probably locked, too...and I wasn't fully confident that listening to slow jams would save me if I had to wait for the next 5 train so I decided to stay on the train for the final two stops and take my chances.

As I tapped my feet frantically to the music during the last bit of my commute home, I contemplated if it would be a legitimate case against the MTA if I ended up with a UTI. As soon as I walked through my door, I ran to my bathroom...which was unlocked. Once my bladder was empty and my mind was more clear, I realized that it would be a ridiculous court case...it would obviously be much more logical to just blog about it. Lucky you.