Broad City’s Abbi and Ilana using the facilities. Image Source.
Girls do not poo and, even if they did, they would never ever poo on the first date. Ewwww! Even writing the word poo makes me feel so uncomfortable but, in the name of journalism, feminism, and all things good, write “poo” I will. I even Googled “types of poo” for this article. You’re welcome.
Let’s start with some poo-related urban legends that were discussed in the Catalogue office this morning; there was the girl who couldn’t flush her floater on a first date, so she wrapped it up and put it in her handbag. YUCK. Followed by that time someone did a giant shit at work, starting a Cluedo-like investigation into the origin of said shit — was it Mrs White in the Attic with the lumpy poo or Professor Plum in the Ballroom with the swirly shit? I guess we’ll never know. A few minutes into this delightful session of story time, I started to feel nauseous, such is my aversion to discussing defecation. This convo was of course kicked off by the unprecedented poo story that made headlines this week. ICYMI, here’s how it went:
Girl and boy go on a date at Nandos and return home to watch Louis Theroux and “chill”. Girl goes to bathroom to relieve herself. She does a poo (fine) and that poo does not flush (not fine). Panicking, she decides to wrap poo up and chuck it out the window… But, in the cruellest twist of fate, this window happens to be the only window in the world with an internal sill — a small gap between the inside pane of glass and the outside pane of glass. Her poo lands here. Her only option is to go back to boy’s room and tell him what just happened. Boy suggests smashing the window but girl, who is an amateur gymnast, has a better idea: she’ll wriggle into the small gap and retrieve the shit herself! Genius. She manages to reach the shit and pass it back to her lovely partner but, oh crap, she’s stuck! This story ends how all-good emergency shit disposal stories end — with a visit from the fire brigade. These heroes successfully extract the girl from her precarious position in-between the windows, where her shit had lain just moments before. How nice. The end.
Any woman who says they can’t relate to this story is probably lying. If I were in her situation, I would have done exactly the same thing, except, upon realising my shit was stuck in the window from hell I would’ve run away from the house, changed my phone number, and gone into the witness protection program. If you think that sounds extreme, ask yourself what’s the craziest thing you’ve done to prevent a partner from finding out that you, a human woman, shit? Have you held a poo in all day? Gone across the road to the pub to drop off a load? Or pretended that your fart was actually the mating call of an exotic bird? Cacaw, cacaw! All of this stuff is insane.
Also, remember Moaning Myrtle? She spent her entire afterlife crying in the bathroom because she did a shit on a date and died from embarrassment when it wouldn’t flush. True story.
Female poo is so taboo that, honestly, throwing our shit out the window is the only option we’ve got left. If we leave it in the loo, we’ll be doomed to live out our days as that ‘poo girl’ who once did a poo. All poo is taboo but female poo particularly so. This is because females are perfect angels who are always fresh, clean, pleasant-smelling, and poo-free. This is a self-imposed state of perfection that girls are expected to maintain if they want to ‘do stuff’ with boys. So, if ever you can’t flush, pop that bad boy in your handbag ladies!
Of course, it doesn’t have to be this way. You could embrace the fact that you do healthy daily poos. You could announce this miracle to the world — “I feel another one coming on! HALLELUJAH” You could even sing a little jingle while you shit.
Or like me, now that this article is over (thank God), you could go back to pretending that you do not defecate.