April 11, 2024 (but of course I wrote it on Sunday, when the words didn’t flow as eloquently as they did in my head on the 11th)
Roughly 37,000 miles in the air on Thursday, April 11, I racked up yet another accomplishment: I made my first airplane pee.
I have flown a number of times before; not too many times, but enough that you’d think I’d have already sat upon the high throne. But, nay, my first in-flight urination was last Thursday.
As I sat upon the toilet—which impressed me that it was a real toilet, flushing and all—I thought, “this isn’t half bad.” I anticipated a blue sea of sanitation soaked in others’ sh*t and p*ss. No, I got first-class treatment with a real, flushing bowl.
Yet, my cheeks had barely touched the porcelain when I felt the crashing of immediate turbulence. Yes, I held my pee for a time and it was the exact moment I sat down that the Airbus 320 decided to take a tumble into the clouds.
Just my luck.
I was never one to be dramatic about turbulence. The flight time I rode a plane I was 22. Before then, I’d only heard people describe it.
“I thought I was going to die!” they’d say, so dramatically.
It’s possible I’ve never experienced truly bad turbulence, but this wasn’t terrible.
However, I was on the toilet.
And I thought to myself, “I gotta write about this.”
So here I am, on my return flight with an upset stomach, thinking about that “Thursday Toilet Turbulence.”
Like “Friday Night Smackdown,” or whatever it is, I’m not a WWE expert, but it’s all me, KT.
“TTT” has a nice ring to it. The triple threat.
I’m not using the bathroom this time. I don’t have to. I just about emptied my entire insides out earlier with almost a dozen visits while I clocked an entire 9 to 5 shift at the Denver International Airport. I will spare you the details.
Our flight was delayed over 3 hours, but we also got to the airport super early. It had taken quite awhile to get off the plane, a bite to eat (or three—my blood sugar was low, because of course it was), get lost and then found again through the various concourses, ride the train to the baggage claim, ride my fourth method of transportation that day (a shuttle bus) to the rental car, fill out the paperwork for the rental car I had already booked (yay!), drive to the airbnb and finally unpack for a few days of fun. So the “arrive 2 hours early” turned into “if the flight is at 2:16, let’s get there by noon to get through the bigger security than ABE, let’s account an hour for driving, a half hour for the shuttle and give ourselves an extra hour-and-a-half JUST IN CASE we need it anywhere,” aka, I made sure we checked out by 9:30 a.m. Even better, we walked out of there before 9.
Good news, we weren’t late! And security, though the lines were uber long, moved swiftly.
My sister’s suitcase was flagged for spray sunscreen. Somehow she got through the extra check faster than I could untie and retie both my shoes. She was smart. She wore Crocs.
I finally exclaimed, “Okay, I’m ready!” before retracting my statement in record time as I noticed my right shoe was not tied. Ope.
Back to the flights. Mostly smooth sailing. I really like planes, but I still get some anxiety. You just never know what can happen.
It’s like finally giving in to the mile high toilet in the sky. You let yourself relax—and it’s always then it hits you.
Like that toilet turbulence.
Because of course it would happen to me.
No one ever said being lucky was a good thing.
Landing in the Lehigh Valley with love,
Katie.