*Because it is all fun and games until you are in a bathroom stall.
You step inside the bathroom and shut the door.
You lock the door.
Get a good look at yourself in the dim lighting. You look great. Remember this because you’re about to look more vulnerable than a baby antelope at the watering hole during lion lunch hour.
Unsnap (why are there always snaps?) the top two snaps. Then, re-snap them.
You go back to the door. Double-check to make sure that it is locked. Jiggle the handle. Shake it.
Once you’re sure it’s locked, unsnap all the snaps and zipper (there’s always a zipper too), and slide your arms out of the sleeves. Unpeel yourself, you big, stupid banana.
Look down at your chest: you’re either wearing the bra you’ve had for too long and that you tell people you wash, but you’ve never washed it, because you’re worried it’ll lose some of the comfort it brings you. Or you’re completely naked. There is no in-between.
Hold the top of the jumpsuit under the back of your thighs so that it’s not touching the floor (gross) and also not touching the toilet (gross). This will be difficult but necessary.
You forgot to build a “toilet seat nest” to sit on. Build it now while holding the jumpsuit.
Bend your legs and assume a sitting position. You are ready.
As you are peeing, cold and alone, you consider the history of your choice: you’re wearing a garment originally designed by men for men to be worn in factories around dangerous machinery, by fighter pilots or people jumping out of planes or by specialized police and security units. But you think you look so damn cool with a jumpsuit or worse, romper (the shorter version), on. The jumpsuit you’re wearing tonight was purchased on Amazon with a gift card your mom gave you.
The door handle jiggles. You’ve never known fear until then. There is only one stall and the line outside is long. Pressure is on you. You start to sweat. Thinking straight is difficult at this point.
You say some combination of words to let the potential intruder know that the bathroom is occupied. Your voice is at a higher pitch than you’ve ever reached before.
You pee faster.
You reach for toilet paper while still managing not to let the jumpsuit fall to the ground. (gross!) You are so brave.
Somehow, the door opens, and someone (a man, damn these unisex bathrooms!) walks in. He backs out with apologies, but not before you make full eye contact. He has seen you. There’s nothing you can do or say. Everything will be different from now on.
You finish, jumpsuit yourself back up, wash your hands, and get back out there. You see him, the person who saw you. He is sitting at the bar with friends. He looks at you, smiles and waves you over. You blush but end up talking to him. He tells you he always wondered how women pee with a jumpsuit on. You are both telling the story of what just happened, and, for a moment, there is a sense of unity. The jumpsuit has made you one. Then you tell him a list off 33 things why life is easier if you have a penis. He laughs and you know he is a person with humor.
You keep drinking until, once again, it’s time. But he will guard the stall when you go in.
