Home bowl syndrome

I don't have it like you guys seem to have it, but my morning routine is waking up about 90 minutes before I have to leave and having a big coffee. About 9/10 mornings I will have a great pregame and be ready for the day. If I don't get a decent pregame, I know I will be needing to later in the day, and that sucks.

 

I've been dating this girl for a few months. The relationship is moving along at a decent place. I've probably been to her place 20-30 times by now. I still haven't christened her bowl. Magically I usually don't feel the need while I'm there, but even so, I'll just wait until we go out or I go home to unload.

(P.S. Great thread. Somehow I missed this the first time around.)
(P.P.S. I can hear spnited yelling, "No one gives a shit about your shitting!")

 

No HBS for me.

While I like to go to another floor to take care of my business at work, that is just because the financial guys, who we share a floor with, like to have phone conversations in the bathroom.

I think that's weird and do my best to avoid them.

But when the urge hits and it hits quite frequently (thanks Metamucil!) any bowl will do just like any port in the storm.

 

Have no choice but to go at work. Don't want to be on the course for four hours with one screaming to come out. We've talked about it in the shack and if I absolutely had to I'd go after the fifth hole. There's an indoor facility, privacy, and it's near 6 team and 7 fairway, which means if I had to, when I walked off No. 5 I'd tell them "guys, I'm having some stomach issues. The sixth hole is a straightaway par 4, play to the front of the green, and I'll see you on 7."

 

I am fortunate enough to have a hotel attached to the building where I work.

If I need to have a grumpy I find the hotel bathrooms on the meeting floors that generally do not get a lot of use. Floor to ceiling doors, comfy seat. Awesome.

 

Was just forced to violate my personal HBS at the local gas station, or suffer Brettian-level humiliation.

Never give suspect mayonnaise the benefit of the doubt.

 

Any place, any time.
No problem.

I shat at the end of my driveway once.

I was driving home. I had one on deck, but I thought I could make it.
We live out in the country. Driveway is long and gated.
I got as far as the end of the driveway and was about to have a breakthrough episode.

Parked the car, left it running and dropped wolf bait right there.

Wiped my ass with my t-shirt.

Still have the shirt.

 

Perfect story with his voice. Even the meter is correct.

 

I got over this shit (bad pun intented) in college. I had no choice with communal bathrooms in the dorm. I need to go, I go, whether the bowl be at home or away.

 

I wonder if, at least on the road, I need to start drinking coffee - not a regular (ahem) habit for me.

 

See, I can shit almost anywhere that has no attachment to me. I'd prefer to be on my home turf, but can adjust.

It's just when I'm at someone's house, especially a significant other, I get ridiculous over it.

 

I'm not a huge fan of using the work facilities here, which are shared by seemingly millions of people. Thankfully, very few people in my office get here as early as I do, so the bathroom is often empty and freshly cleaned from the night before when I arrive. Like just now! #TMI