I usually don't blush, but...

There was this one time that I was very, very embarrassed. Mortified would probably be a better word.

Back in the day (high school) the guy I dated raced dirtbikes/fourwheelers. He travelled with his family on weekends to race in these races and a few times I joined and we all stayed in their camper and had a great time. We did normal things that normal people do while staying in a camper: grilled out, roasted marshmallows, slept uncomfortably, and walked in on people taking a shadoobie. Wait, you don't do that?

Okay let me lay out the setting for you. I'm 16. I'm staying in a camper with my boyfriend's parents and brother. I am doing everything I can to keep some sort of privacy. I mean I  haven't pooped in over 24 hours because I just don't want to do that in such a small space around people I don't know like that. So I had the bright idea to wait until everyone was watching races and use the bathroom when no one was around. Someone else had that very same idea. So I just walk into the camper, mosey on back to the bathroom, open the door, and BAM there's my bf's dad hanging out on the John with his pants around his ankles. Apologies were made and he made a joke about knocking first, but I knew I would never look at him the same way again.

Mortifying. But wait. There's more.

Oh you thought it couldn't get any worse than walking in on your high school boyfriend's dad sitting on the porcelain throne? It can, my friends. It can.

Later that night (or maybe it was the next day, I try not to think about it often) I decided I wanted a shower, but didn't want to use the shower house (they were gross). So la dee da I'm in the shower just washin' mah hair and la dee da I'm done with my shower. As I slide the door open and reach for the towel, the bathroom door swings open and THERE IS HIS DAD seeing me in all of my glory. I scream, he screams louder, slams the door shut and our relationship is forever changed.

I should have taken this as a sign from the gods then that me and this guy weren't meant to be together. I mean, how can two separately but equally mortifying events happen to one person in the same 24 hours?

Moral of the story: don't go into a bathroom that isn't yours without knocking first. Period. End of story. Thanks.

Oh yeah... its Friday, time to back that azz up for the weekend!