Shakes on a plane
Yes, that should read shakes, not snakes.

Several years ago, flying back to dear old Edinburgh from sunny Majorca - thank god its a fairly short flight.

The holiday squits had started the day before travelling home, and the various stages had been gone through. The gentle beginning of thinking "ooh, that was a bit squidgy" to the "holy shitting christ" of Krakatoa-esque explosions, finally settling down to the "don't make me go more than ten feet from a loo, for all our sakes" desperation stage. Afraid to fart, cheeks clenched tightly at all times, just in case.

Arrive at the airport, check-in queue moving fast, quick sprint to the loo. Through passport control, quick sprint to the loo. Tour duty-free, quick sprint to the loo. You get the picture.

Finally board our plane, seated in the second row, only feet from the crapper. Result!

Take off was all normal, although I swear it took twice as long as usual for the seat-belt light to go off, and all the while my stomach was gurgling like a high school chemistry experiment. At last, the light blinked out, and in a flash I was in the wee room, thankfully still with clean pants (it was close, believe me). Britannia will never know how close I came to ruining one of their seats for all time.

The flight settled into routine, with me leaping for the loo every twenty minutes or so, and I began to think I'd make it. Until the seat-belt light went back on, with a mumbled announcement about turbulence. Oh no. Really oh no.

For the forty long minutes until we landed, I was in agony. The plane was bouncing around the sky, lightning was underneath us, and normally I'd have thoroughly enjoyed myself. I was clenching my buttocks so tight I could have cracked walnuts. I was squeezing so hard I was physically shaking with the effort.

The landing was a bit bumpy, and that really didn't help. I was first off the plane, and thank god Edinburgh has toilets right after passport control. I was in there for twenty minutes, and at one point was resting my flushed face against the nice cool partition wall when JuniorWitch#1 came looking for me. I grunted that I wouldn't be long, and chanced rising. To immediately sit straight back down. More explosions, and it was at long last over.

By the grace of affordable housing we only live ten minutes from the airport, and at last I was back on my own throne. With Andrex. I had earache from the landing, took two co-codamol my neighbour provided, and inadvertently discovered they have an immodium-like effect on the bowels (or at least on mine).

Every holiday since then, I take two co-codamol if I get the squits and it works a treat. I can't take more than two, or I end up not shitting for a week - and I'm not sure which is worse.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Fri 28 Mar 2008, 18:47, Reply)