wheel. “Okay, Matt,” she said. “Go!”
I hit the sidewalk and ran. There was a flower
shop on the corner. “No public bathroom,” the
lady florist said. El Rodeo Mercado was next
door, so I dashed inside.
“No hay baño público,” the cashier barked
back to my request. The door jingled behind
me as I made tracks down the block. 7 Monks
Taproom, Espresso Bay, Truth Seeker Tattoo.
At each window, “NO PUBLIC BATHROOM.”
Jesus, send a Speedway, I prayed. I scanned
the strip for gas pumps and a giant red sign. No
Speedway in sight.
Finally, I burst into a small clothing boutique
for women. “In your bathroom or on the floor!”
I cried. Faces were frozen, eyes wide. I realized
I’d said this in the same tone some ski-masked
terrorist might demand, Your money or your
life!
“I need to use the bathroom. Please?” I pleaded
with pathetic eyes.
A soft-spoken clerk slowly raised her arm and
pointed to a door near the back. “Right over
there, sir.”
I made it back out front, a few shades paler
but overall feeling like a new man. I walked up
and down the median, craning my neck for our
white 240. Where were we supposed to meet
again? Just then, I heard the distinct beep of
an eighties Volvo horn.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked when I climbed in.
“I am now,” I replied, steering us back onto the
strip. Sarah looked at me for a second and then
burst out laughing. What could I do but laugh
too? Funny how the most awkward, stressful
moments can bring us together sometimes.
Bathroom stories may not be the most
romantic to share, but it’s never the starryeyed
moments of marriage that make us
question its meaning. It’s the random clashes,
catastrophes, and misunderstandings that put
love to the test.
The Bible says that God made us a helper
so we wouldn’t have to face life alone, but
38