A Great American Pastime

One of my great American pastimes is discovering public restrooms. To partake in this venture, you should start by driving on a freeway with a beverage in one hand. The beverage should ideally be not water but something that causes the uncertainty in your bladder to grow. Depending on your social strata and political alignment, this could range from an iced latte to a Monster energy drink. As the disturbance in your bladder starts to slowly amp up it’s time to look for the nearest gas station. Gas stations stay in business because people need to pee and there are no other easy alternatives. Most of the fare in gas stations, the soggy pretzels and thousand-different energy bars, are only present to obscure the fact that you are there to perform a shameful act. The only thing gas stations want you to buy is another energy drink. That way you'll stop to pee in another 50 miles.

Recognizing which gas stations have working restrooms is a specific skill set. On a fateful night several years ago, I stopped at a gas station in Montrose, Houston, at around 11:35 PM. The watchful eye of a fellow Indian man followed me from the glass-paned window of the store as I dutifully filled up gas before revealing the true reason for my stop. I nonchalantly walked up to the door, my effortless stride masking my full bladder, and pulled on the door to the promised land. It wouldn't open. I turned my gaze towards the man at the window who had been watching me, and he mouthed that the store was closed. My aloof gaze suddenly turned into that of a deer who had drunk too much Redbull. I had to admit to him that I was in fact, there to pee. He nodded his head in that stereotypical Indian way that he knew I would know to mean no. I almost peed my pants that night, but thanks to the 10-lane freeways of Houston I was able to swerve and skid to the safety of my apartment. That night opened my eyes to why people in Texas buy huge trucks with good road clearance. You can hold onto a full bladder much longer when the ride is smooth and not bumpy, unlike my puny little Mazda 3.

Texas also has Buccees, a chain of stores known for its ostentatious gas stations and convenience stores. With over 100 gas pumps, the Buc-ees in New Braunfels is the largest gas station in the world. It is the Madison Square Garden of peeing. The restrooms are so large and impeccably clean that I fear they might start putting on a country music show inside. One day I’ll walk in to find guys two-stepping with each other after peeing. Buc-ees restroom is also probably the only gas station restroom where I've seen the baby changing tables used for that purpose. In most gas station restrooms, the state of these tables is such that I can't imagine anyone using them for snorting cocaine let alone changing a baby.

This great American pastime is more inclusive than most in that you don't always need a car to participate. In the city, where people are more open-minded, the restrooms are usually obscured or require you to have brunch with the girls before using them. I was having coffee with a friend who asked me what I was going to write for the next newsletter. To escape this question, I told her that I needed to pee, which took me on a journey. The coffee shop did not have a restroom, which you got to respect since people who need to pee are the target audience of many a coffee shop. I waltzed into a grocery store, picked up a bottle of Drano, and handed it to the cashier, upon which I was bestowed the key to the restroom. "The unmarked door on aisle 8," they told me. The unmarked door on aisle 8 opened into a room with floral wallpaper and two other doors marked M and W. The restrooms were more thoughtfully designed than the store itself. The wall of the men's restroom was covered from end to end with frames of small comics. The smell of lavender wafted through the stuffy air. Someone truly cared about this pastime of mine. The drano I had bought was a ticket to view this exhibit of a restroom. It is a joy to happen upon the work of people who share similar passions. I hope that this becomes a competitive pastime someday. Perhaps we'll take a leaf from gaming and start speedrunning restrooms.

Programming note: The newsletter is a day late cause I needed to pee I was sick.