Since nothing particularly offensive or interesting has happened on the MTA of late, I thought I'd share another transportation-related story with you.
In the early 90s, my best friend Kate moved to Chicago for a spell. During that summer, some friends and I flew out to visit her during Blues Fest. I'm not a huge fan of flying - I hate the rigmarole of dealing with airport security and cramped flying conditions, of course, but the worst part of it is the constipation.
Airplane air dries me out. Completely.
Anyhoo...after a couple days with clogged pipes, I did something stupid. We went as a group to Ed Debevic's for dinner, and I ordered Ed's Southwest Chicken Salad. Which happens to contain beans. While they may be good for the heart, they are most decidedly not good for the plumbing, if you know what I mean.
Now, Kate lived in Park Ridge, IL. Ed Debevic's was in downtown Chicago. More than an hour apart via public transportation. One of the longest hours of my life.
Not long after boarding the train back to Park Ridge, I started to have stomach cramps. The realization that I might crap my pants right then and there put me into a panic, which in turn led to cold sweats. Among my traveling companions was my brother, who immediately sensed something was wrong and took my hand.
"Squeeze hard when you feel a cramp," he urged. And I did. I squeezed and clenched and sweated the whole way to the metro station where Kate had parked her car. Her apartment was still a bit of a drive away, and I had to go NOW. She remembered that there was a HoJo's nearby, one where I knew the bathroom's location, since we had eaten there every morning on a trip to town the year before. She sped off as fast as she could, with me in the front passenger seat, ready to jump out even before the car had come to a stop.
Within 15 minutes, the ordeal was over, and I was back in the car, still pale but much relieved. Needless to say, I avoided beans for a good 15 years afterward.
Posted by theminx on MTA Diaries.
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