Friday, September 9, 2011

"Well, when it comes down to me against a situation, I don't like the situation to win." - MacGyver

I have done quite a few "crazy", some would even say "desperate", things in my life. Depending how you feel about this, I may have just hit a brand new low.

I would like to preface this story by saying: I am very resourceful in most, if not all, situations. If I don't have important, "needed" items for my circumstances, I will work with what I do have. I have turned two knives and a bread tie into a spoon in order to eat a frosty. I have used paper clips and pencils to keep sweaty hair out of my face. Basically, in a sticky situation I like to channel my idol, Mr. MacGyver. As a child, I was an avid watcher of the show, constantly taking notes of any handmade items that I may need one day. A bomb made of bubblegum and paper clips? Yeah, that's a definite. Wooden coffin turned into a jet ski? Who wouldn't need that?! I consider myself a smart kid for taking mental notes of what I would need to concoct if shit ever got real.

That day has visited me numerous times. I like to think it's Mr. MacGyver's way of testing me. Can this chick do what I did? Hell yes she can! Does She have the same skill and awesomeness? You bet your ass she does! That brings me to present day. Desperate times, call for desperate measure...seriously.

While trolling one of our favorite bookstore, I had to use the restroom. This is not unheard of. People have bladders, and they need to be emptied frequently, so what? I made my way to the bathroom and noticed a woman coming out of the bathroom I was about to walk in. (Side note: there are two bathrooms in this particular bookstore, both are single stalled rooms). I am not a fan of using a restroom directly after someone, due to sanitary, and smell purposes. I thought, "maybe I can just go in, I really have to pee." After taking one step in, I immediately backed out, thought "no way.", and made my way to the next bathroom. After sitting down to re leave myself, I noticed there was no toilet paper. No problem, I'll use paper towels. *Looks at the wall where an "air dryer" is curiously taking the place of a paper towel dispenser* "Noooooo!" I also have a rule against being a female and "air drying" your lady bits. No Me Gusta! It is unsanitary, and I will not do it.

At this point, I've realized that I'm just about out of options, besides the one lonely strand on TP that is so tauntingly laying across the floor. For a second (seriously, a second), I consider picking that diseased piece of vileness off the ground and using it. Then, I quickly came to my senses and realized In a situation like this, I'd rather "air dry" then get the herp from some random bathroom TP. Then I thought, "What would my uncle MacGyver" do in this situation? (Yeah, I liked to think of him as my cool uncle Gyv, who visited on the holidays, so what?) And, after realizing he'd "shake it twice, and walk freely", I looked down and said "Well,   good thing I'm not too fond of these underwear."

It was like MacGyver himself had rest his hand on my shoulder and instructed me in what I needed  to do. After shooing the perv out of the bathroom I got to work. I decided I didn't want to physically take my pants off in fear of making pant to floor, or foot to floor contact. (Plus, I like to make my life as difficult as possible). So, the only thing to do would be to rip them bad boys off! *Dear "fruit of the loom", thank you for making you lace/cotton combo undies slightly defective. I'm pretty sure the lace isn't supposed to rip that easily from the cotton, but since I discovered this in this particular situation..I am grateful.*

I started ripping my underwear, like  I had never ripped before. The lace came off easily, but once it got to the cotton, it got stuck. I did not want this situation to defeat me, so I trucked on. Desperate, I used my teeth to bite the side. *rip* VICTORY! One leg had now been freed from my cotton prison. In between rips I couldn't help but laugh. This was the most ridiculous situation I had ever put myself in. And to think, if anyone had been outside listening, I'm sure the police would have been summoned. I made it to my final obstacle, the crotch. I am not that desperate. I removed my other pant leg, removed my underwear, cleaned myself, tossed them in the trash, washed my hands and headed out the door hailing at my accomplishment. On the way back to excitedly tell my boyfriend of what had just happened, I was overcome by a laughing fit. All I could think of was the poor kid who had to empty the trash that night making the gruesome discovery of the shredded panties thinking "Dear god, who got raped in here?!".