Don't Shit Where You Eat

March 1, 2017

Don't shit where you eat. This advice needs to be taken both literally (do not take a shit in the same space that you consume food) and figuratively (do not sex where you work). I am forever ruining my own life by shitting where I eat (again, talking figuratively). I'll find something that I really enjoy like a friendship or a job or my personal sense of respect and I will shit alllllll over it.

 

I'm never going to learn my lesson.

 

The other night I ruined one of my favourite bars in Sydney. I lured the bartender into the bathroom, or maybe he was just there when I was there, or maybe he followed me in - who knows, I hope it's latter.

 

I'm not really sure how things eventuated from this point, I was about five mojitos deep at this stage and said bartender has just recently quizzed me on my sobriety/if I had dinner that night, to which I lied, of course. I think I touched him on the hand, he might have pulled his face close to mine but whatever happened, it ended in us having a mini make-out session in the bathroom - classy.

 

Seconds later I was rummaging through my handbag to retrieve my phone, in order retrieve his phone number and I pulled out a packet of razors,* some pom-poms and my hard drive. He must have thought I was some kind of psychopathic-craft-maniac, which would explain why I didn't hear from him, or perhaps it was because I texted him something along the lines of "Meet me after your shift and I'll show you a good time. Don't disappoint."

 

: |

 

I seriously need a vet to follow me around on drunken nights out and sedate me before I do something excruciating.

 

Why, why, why did I have to shit on my favourite bar? Now I can never go there again because my fragile heart couldn't possibly handle that kind of embarrassment again. I'm afraid that I would self combust or that I'd ask the bartender to be my husband.

 

This is very typical of me. I'm constantly making my friends feel awkward by trying to date them, or having sex with someone who I work with (those ones never work out btw) or the close friend of my close friend...these are people that I can never escape and each time I see their faces I am propelled back into a state of intoxication and anxiety, not a great combo.

 

"I seriously need a vet to follow me around on drunken nights out and sedate me before I do something excruciating."

 

Of course the 'Don't shit where you eat' rule goes out the window when you meet 'the one'. It's okay to have sex with your boss or your best friend's brother if you know that you want to spend every second of the rest of your life with them chained to your ankle. But how is one to know if someone is ankle-chain worthy? Ya know? It's just hard man, it really is.

 

I imagine that the underlying thought that goes through all our heads as we're entering a 'don't shit where you eat' situation is that we probably do think that Stacey's second cousin Bob is the one - even though Bob is only ever 'the one' for a Margaret - or we convince ourselves that we are indeed going to marry that chick that you met at the gym, because that's much easier than the admitting to yourself that you're about to shit on something that you like again - like going to the gym.

 

So I guess the moral to this story is that we shouldn't be messing up good situations for ourselves. Bartenders are for making your drinks, friends are for high-fives and work colleagues are for professional conduct and sharing memes; but like most rules in life, this is one that you probably won't follow - just like waiting for the Green Man before you cross the road or not picking your nose in public. We just need to accept the fact that shit happens, and sometimes it happens at your favourite bar.

 

* I had bought razors on my way out to shave my legs in case I met a cute bartender and kissed him in the toilet. Excellent foresight from me, but it's a pity that I couldn't see a little further into the future to see how it all panned out. I could've left the fuzz on my knees.

 

 

 

Kate Neilson is a list maker, a booty shaker and the opposite of a risk taker. She likes tea and toast in bed and ordering things by colour. She is the creator of Twenty Something Humans and can be lurked @katiepotatierose

 

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