I remember my grandmother as a vibrant, funny and smart
woman willing to expose her own foibles in hysterical stories about herself.
She always made me feel good around her and the
self-effacing stories she told became part of my own personal mantra.
She was staying at our house in the winter of my eighth-grade
year when I went streaking in front of the K-Mart in Falmouth, Maine. She was the
first person I told, and she laughed delightfully, surely realizing that a cold
winter’s night is not the time for a male to go streaking. Thankfully there
were no cameras or social media.
One of my favorite stories she told me, highlighted her resourcefulness,
openness and off-color sense of humor and performance.
 |
| Gran and Me. I think I was about 16. |
She was shopping for clothes at a department store in the 50’s
or 60’s. Back then, many stores made you pay to get into the bathroom stalls.
You would have to insert a nickel and sometimes more and then turn the handle
to use the toilet. As the urge to use the restroom on this day hit Gran hard,
she rushed to the ladies room, to find it was a pay toilet. Rummaging through
her pocket book she found that she didn’t have any change.
Thinking quickly, she decided that even though she was
dressed in a skirt, she would lay on the ground and try to scoot under the
bathroom door. As she worked her upper body under the door her rather bulbous
butt got stuck. She struggled mightily but only managed to get herself stuck
more securely, feet flailing as she lay on the floor wondering what to do next.
The only option was to work as hard as she could to push
herself back out from under the bathroom stall door. By now, tired and desperate
to pee, she began for force herself back out while her dress caught and slowly
moved up over her bottom.
Her panic now was less and about peeing and much more about
someone walking in!
Finally, her skirt untucked, and her body moved quickly
across the floor. She scrambled to her feet, straightened out her skirt and as
she caught her breath, that overwhelming urge to pee came flooding back.
Looking around quickly she saw the bathroom sink. At least
you didn’t have to pay to use that!
She immediately pulled down her underwear, hiked her skirt
and jumped up on the sink to finally relieve herself. Ah, what a moment of satisfaction
that must been!
Fortunately, no one came in and Gran was able to pull herself
together, wash her hands and go back to shopping.
When she got home from her shopping trip she couldn’t wait
to tell my grandfather the story. As she finished her story, Gramp simply
scoffed and didn’t believe she did or would do such a thing.
Still wearing the same skirt she went shopping in, and
standing in the kitchen, my grandmother reached down, dropped her underwear,
hiked her skirt and jumped up on the kitchen sink and peed again.
This time my grandfather believed her, and I doubt if he
ever doubted her again.
