STILL GOT IT

Dear 17-Year-Old Cashier I Acted Weird in Front Of

Acting cool in front of teens when you gotta pee

Dear Dunkin’ Cashier,

I’m sorry I was weird. I’m out of practice talking to people. I converse with people my age all the time, but I don’t know what to say to your age group. You guys are so cool.

I know you don’t own Dunkin’, but I felt like you were in charge and I wanted to be respectful. That’s why I didn’t just run into the bathroom when my bladder was about to burst. I bought a lemonade.

I don’t eat donuts. They go right to my ass. You’ll see. When your metabolism slows down, it’s all carrots and apple cider vinegar. I wanted you to know I respected your authority. I wasn’t going to use my MILF status to march into the bathroom without purchasing anything.

There was a sign on the women’s bathroom door that said OUT OF ORDER. I almost passed out when I saw that. I was dying. I let a little pee drop loose, to release some pressure from the valve. I’d been holding it for an hour in the parking lot where I was waiting to pick up my son.

I panicked and I might have shared too much. Do you have any idea how intimidating you are combined with the clenching? You’re so cool and nothing seems to faze you. I know I’ve only seen you once but I can tell you’re a hip little lady. Your bouncy je ne sais quoi beach hair. Your retro cat eyeglasses make you seem smart, aloof, and trendy. Trifecta. Or maybe tres cool-a.

If I wore those glasses, I’d look like someone's weird aunt who worked in a library. Or maybe one of those aging history buffs who gives tours at the local historical society. I could point out to tourists where I was standing during the 1871 Chicago Fire, or who I was dating when Roosevelt was president.

I don’t think you knew what I was talking about when I told you that. Did you know Chicago had a fire? I’m not talking about the soccer team. Have you heard of Roosevelt or is Bill Clinton deep history to you?

Maybe I’m selling myself short though. Maybe if I were wearing your sparkly cat eyeglasses, you’d think I was an aging but quintessential artist of my time, a woman who had broken the canvas ceiling for female artists. You might have asked me what it was like to sleep with Picasso or indulge in a ménage à trois with Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone De Beauvoir. Ask the MILF, you might have thought.

I know how hard it is for teenagers to watch middle-aged women, who have to pee, come apart in front of them. You’re so shiny and your Instagram is probably so happening. Do kids still say that? Happening? It’s like being in the moment and being cool all at once. Double trouble bubble.

I probably didn’t need to explain to you that my kid was taking a class next door because our school district is failing students so we have to pay extra to keep our children barely educated. You might not have been interested in my frustration with the school district’s inability to support children who are flourishing in a subject.

But I needed you to know why I stopped into a Dunkin’ bathroom in a strip mall, at dinner time, looking like Ms. Frizzle in wellies even though it's 70 degrees out. You’ll understand when you’re a mom. You grab the shoes at the door if you want to be anywhere on time. Life’s not a Bowie concert anymore. Madonna is 60. Dinner doesn’t make itself. This isn’t the Jetsons. It was supposed to be the Jetsons by now.

I gotta be honest with you though. Did you have to look at me like you were going to kill yourself if I didn't stop talking? I know I was TMI-ing but I’ve always feared authority and you seem like maybe you could be the manager, if you play your cards right, in a couple years. And your coolness factor is like an 11. Couldn’t you have thrown me a bone? Or a long john?

Oh, I have to order more than lemonade? There’s a minimum purchase to use your bathroom? You’re gonna go far honey. Thanks for listening.

Gotta go gotta go gotta go right now,

Desperately,

TMI

Thank you, Gary Chapin!

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