Bolt Bus, Bathrooms, and Butts

When I was 16,  I decided to go spend a couple weeks in Boston with my oldest sister. Feeling independent and awesome, I purchased a ticket to ride a Bolt Bus (kind of like a Greyhound bus but less sketchy) for the 6 hour trip. I remember feeling a mixture of stress and excitement as I boarded the bus alone and sat alone and prayed that no one would sit near me, so that I could continue to sit alone.

About 4 hours into the trip, the inevitable happened-- I had to pee. Which isn't a very big deal, since there was a bathroom at the back of the bus near where I was sitting. So I got up, made sure all my belongings were safe on my seat and made my way to the bathroom. I was careful to avoid eye contact with all the passengers near the bathroom, since they most likely hated anyone and everyone who used it. (Smells don't really disperse on a bus where the windows don't open).

Anywho. I go to the bathroom, sit down and do my thing. And I am just finishing up (pants still down) when our lovely Saint of a bus driver slammed on the breaks. Pants wrapped around my ankles, I go flying forward from the toilet, slam my full body against the wall of the bathroom, and the door to the bathroom comes FLYING open with the contact.

Outside, everyone's heads whip to the right to see the cause of the explosion. Shocked faces. Horrified mothers covering their child's eyes. Awkward men turning quickly away. Me, standing there pantsless (and I mean pants of any sort).

Eventually I regain my senses enough to shut the bathroom door and silently scream in humiliation. I stayed in there a solid 5 minutes after finishing up. I washed my hands and spent a while scraping up the lost dignity from the floor. Finally, I reasoned that someone may need to use the bathroom, and I got up the courage to leave.

I made a beeline for my seat when I exited, and I was ever so pleased to see that all my books and papers had spilled all over the floor from the sudden stop before. Of course, everyone around my seat was avoiding eye contact with me, so I picked everything up on my own and hid behind my books for the remainder of the trip.

When I arrived in Boston, the bus driver smiled at me, unaware of the trauma he had caused, and said cheerfully, "I hope you had a nice ride!"
MLIHK.