This is a true story. The events depicted in this post did not take place in Minnesota in 1987. At the request of the survivors, the names have been changed. Out of respect for the disgusted, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred.
Not so long ago, I knew a woman I’ll call Trishit. One Sunday morning, while temporarily stationed on an Army base, Trishit went out for a long run. A few miles in, she suddenly had the urge to empty her bowels.
The urge came on strong, and at the worst time possible; she was weaving through a sea of office and administrative buildings that were closed for the weekend. In a completely urban environment, no woods in sight, she was at a loss for what to do. She tried the doors of several buildings, but they were all locked. Soon she reached the point of immediate action, so she hurried over to a nearby tree. It was the most cover she could find.
Just as suddenly as her urge had come, Trishit found herself among a flood of wailing sirens and flashing lights. Hastily finishing her business, she pulled up her running shorts as two police officers emerged from their cruiser and approached her.
They didn’t want to hear her story or listen to any excuses. No matter how Cottonelle her tone, there was no Charmin them, no way for her two ply them. Trying to hide their disgust, they issued her a citation.
Trishit was mortified at her ticket, but a megaroll of anger welled up inside her too. What was she supposed to have done? It was an emergency call of nature!
Instead of accepting the charges and paying the fine, Trishit showed up to her court date. She brought evidence in the form of a note from her doctor, which stated that she had irritable bowel syndrome, and therefore had no other choice: when she had to go, she had to go.
The judge dismissed the charges.
Trishit walked away Scott free.
In a small-world encounter years later, I shared an Army office with a lawyer, Major Canorpotty. One day, while we were sharing anecdotes, Canorpotty mentioned he had been the prosecuting attorney for a girl arrested for public defecation and public indecency. The details were the same; it was Trishit.
A stout, serious fellow who started his day off with a bag of Bojangles every morning, he didn’t have any AngelSoft feelings for the defendent. I told him his head was up in a White Cloud; he clearly didn’t understand the situation. We agreed to disagree.
Did Trishit really suffer from irritable bowel syndrome? Unlikely. Butt I do know it’s a good answer if I ever find myself in that same situation!