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TIFU and now I live in a men’s restroom

Oh, good! Now I have a reason to post here! Fuck!

Background - I have celiac. I have to be incredibly careful about what I eat or I will get liquid rocket shits every 15 minutes for about a week. It’s like haribo sugar free gummi bears, but constant.

I’m generally pretty careful, but this morning as I’m walking into work, I feel the familiar rumble of doom. My job has two floors with four bathrooms. Men are rarely in this building. RARELY. As such, we ladies are very accustomed to using the men’s room. I don’t like pooping at work, but my intestines tell me this is non negotiable. Okay, sure. So to be extra extra safe, I use the men’s room downstairs on a Saturday. The likelihood of someone walking in is now .0001. To take care of that, I lock the door.

About 5 minutes into the carnage, I hear footsteps. Ok. Sure. Not a problem. The door is locked.

Except it isn’t.

Some huge dude walks in on me in the thralls of evil. I am unmistakably female. I am clutching the toilet seat. I yell, WHOA BUDDY and he does a vamoose.

Except.. now I have to walk into my job and I’m fairly certain he’s a client. My shift starts in 10. I’m never leaving this bathroom.

TL;DR man patronizing my job saw me pooping in what should have been HIS safe space

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