The Seal Has Been Broken

After almost 2 years of commuting on Coach Canada, tonight I had to do the one thing I promised myself I would never ever do on the bus - use the on-board washroom.

I have always had a bladder of steel. And since getting pregnant, I have relied on this natural talent. But I've also been very careful to use the washroom before climbing onto the bus, especially now that I'm heading towards the end of my pregnancy.

But tonight, there was no amount of preparation I could have done to have avoided this fate. There were three accidents on the QEW between Toronto and Burlington that not only snarled traffic, but stopped everything completely.

I held on for three hours through the disasters. Just when it looked like we were finally in the clear, another accident shut us down just a few minutes from the stop in downtown Grimsby.

And that was it. The breaking point. I waddled out of my seat to the back of the bus where the closet of a washroom is located.

It lived up to my worst nightmare. It was very small and my pregnant belly kept banging off each wall. It was stinky. It was grimy. It was dark because the frigging latch on the door didn't shut properly so the door didn't completely lock, nor did the light come on. And there's one handle to hold on to that I'm sure 29453 other people touched after having touched their penis or vagina.

The pièce de résistance - no soap and water to wash your hands, only hand sanitizer in a fucking grimy dispenser that looks like it hasn't been cleaned since 1984.

I texted The Comedian when I got back to my seat and told him to bring a hazmat suit, lighter fluid and a match because the only way I would ever get rid of this filthy memory would be to burn my skin off.

I hate you bus. I hate you traffic. I hate you commute.

Two weeks and three days left, and it can't come fast enough.