My Favorite Chevron

Because of my Runner's Runs ailment, I have been forced to make new routes that include potty pitstops.

I decided first, to form a foolproof, no accidents in the pants circular route that led me past a laundromat every 2 1/2 miles. Who can't make it 2 1/2 miles without using the restroom?! Well, this worked for awhile. I would run the loop until my stomach started rumbling, race into the laundromat restroom, use the john, and run back out. The laundromat restroom was the perfect location. The best part was, no one ever did laundry at 5 a.m., so the restroom was always available. Then one day, there was a kink in my perfect plan. I ran into the restroom, sat down and was shocked to see there was no toilet paper! I figured a homeless person must have stolen it. The next day, I outsmarted the thief. I brought my own toilet paper! This continued for weeks: bathroom still always available WITHOUT toilet paper. I made it work. I looked a little chubbier running with a wad of toilet paper in my shorts, but I didn't care! Then, to my chagrin, one early morning, I raced up to the door, but when I tried to swing it open, I realized the door was locked. There was a note on the door that said, "Due to recent THEFTS, the laundromat will no longer open until 7 a.m.!" How could they do this to me? I felt a surge of anger towards the toilet paper thief. Was he/she to blame for my "no more laundromat potty predicament?!" Or perhaps, they thought I was the thief!

Well, I was forced to switch my route. I found a very nice, clean Chevron that opens early, smells fabulous, and has sparkling clean toilets. The Chevron is about 5 miles into my route. I decided to give this new run a try. Most days, I made it the 5 miles with no accidents (I won't mention the time I didn't make it to the Chevron and went potty in someone's driveway.)! True, it wasn't as convenient as the laundromat, but I'd make it work. The first time I walked into the Chevron, I was wearing my too short purple running shorts with my pink WonderWoman water belt around my waist. I looked down at the ground as I scurried towards the restroom, hoping the workers wouldn't notice me. I used the facilities, made sure the toilet was good as new (this Chevron even provides toilet cleaning brushes for those that make a mess), and headed out. The lady at the cash register gave me the eye. "Who does this sweaty girl think she is, using my toilet and not purchasing anything?!" I could feel her disapproval.

Two days later, I decided to try the route to Chevron again. As I saw my reflection in the glass door at the front of the store, I realized I was once again dressed in my too short purple running shorts (freshly laundered of course!) and my WonderWoman utility belt. Oh, how embarrassing. I prayed silently that the same cashier from two days previous, would not be working and see me in my outfit. She'd be sure to recognize me. Luck was not on my side. I tried to ease around the chip and pretzel display instead of taking the direct route to the restroom. As I peeked over the Lays Potato Chips, I saw the cashier's eyes boring into me. I hurried into the bathroom, hoping she wouldn't follow me inside to tell me I was no longer welcome in their facility.

I once again thoroughly enjoyed the sparkly toilets and exited with no sign of the bathroom police. I decided to try a different tactic on my way out of the store. Maybe if I was super friendly, I'd be welcomed back each morning with open arms. I smiled at the cashier and said, "Thank you. Have a great day!"

"Thank you. Have a great day?" Are you kidding me? Did those words really come out of my mouth? I had just thanked the Chevron lady for the use of her toilet. I was mortified. I waited for her reaction. There was none. Not a smile. Not a, "You are welcome." Nothing.

That night I wondered what the Chevron people would do to get rid of me -- the sweaty girl in the too short purple shorts. Would they too stop providing toilet paper? Would they put a sign on the restroom door that reads, "We don't want your gas. Buy ours instead?" Or perhaps they would just lock their doors like the laundromat owner in hopes of getting rid of the early morning jogger with the runner's runs. No matter. For now, it is still my favorite Chevron!