‡ Chapter 1 ‡

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"Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes...the ones who see things differently---they're not fond of rules.  You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can't do is ignore them, because they change things."

 -Steve Jobs

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"I'm trying to take a dump here!"

The impatient stranger pounded their fist on the door.  Sweat broke down my brow, the late summer heat crowding the enclosed space.

Bang! Bang!

"Can't someone shit in peace?!" I shouted.  My nose scrunched as I inhaled the horrifying stench, my nostrils gasping for fresh air.

Bang! Bang!

After two minutes of non-stop knocking, I had lost my concentration on doing my business, and was focused on this persistent person who dared to disturb my call for Mother Nature. 

Bang! Bang! The pounding fuelled my anger and I gritted my teeth. Bang! Bang! Relentless, I sent my foot straight into the door with a loud smack! "Shut up!"

Immediately, a beautiful miracle filled my ears: Silence.

I spat out a strand of dirty blonde hair that flew between my chapped lips. "Finally," I muttered under my breath.

It was bad enough my last resort was the port-a-potty since my best friend and I decided to do a 'Who Could Chug Down the Most Coke' contest during dinner time-at a park without bathrooms. Stupid things people did when they were bored...

Suddenly, the port-a-potty shifted.  I nearly fell in the toilet.

My hands grasped the edge of the plastic seat, my anus dangling stark naked above the mountain of human crap.  There was more than a—respectively using the new measurement term I like to call—shit-ton of human crap less than a foot away. 

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" I banged my fist on the thin walls.

My voice was now soaked in utter panic.  "Isaac!" I called with a crack.  "Issac, this isn't funny!"  The port-a-potty did a violent shake. I felt a pang of icy fear smack my abdomen.  "Isaac, are you even there?" He failed a response, answering my question. This wasn't my geeky, short, narrow-headed friend. This was a real stranger.

Then the inevitable thought seeped toward my mind, clicking into place. What if the angered stranger was going to tip the port-a-potty?

I was about to fly to my feet and make a beeline for the door, but the portable bathroom jerked again.

With one hand, I reached for the door knob while sitting and rattled the knob. It was stuck.

My heart pumped faster. There was a high chance I could fall into the revolting toilet if I wasn't holding onto the edges. Yet the numbers were far from my concern. I used two hands to grasp onto the knob again. Rattle.  Shake.  Rattle.

Not a single budge.

The walls violently jolted, and a scream escaped my lips as I grabbed the toilet edge again. Beads of sweat rolled off my neck.  "Please don't tip me!" I pleaded. It shook more. "I'm too young to die of embarrassment!" The ground vibrated. "Take pity on a little sixteen year old!"

The walls tipped.

"I just wanted to take a shit!"

And then it stopped. My entire body froze, millions of nerves on the verge of breaking down. The silence stretched further. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. My eyes fluttered closed. "Thank goodness." I sighed in relief.

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