Millie tried to ignore her churning stomach as she counted the people in front of her in the port-a-potty line. She was the eleventh person in line. Her stomach sent her a sharp pang as if telling her it wouldn’t be able to wait that long. Well you’re going to have to wait.
Her gut gave a low rumble as if reminding her that she’d been the one to feed it that hotdog from the food truck. How was I supposed to know I’d get food poisoning? What was in the thing anyway? Something similar to an atomic bomb by the way her stomach felt.
It gurgled again and the little girl in front of Millie turned around to stare at her. Millie smiled, but the girl turn around quickly as if looking at her for too long might give her a gurgling stomach too.
The person currently using the port-a-potty came out and Millie silently cheered as she became the tenth person in line. Hold on little stomach, we can do this. Her stomach didn’t seem convinced. It twisted and turned. Millie was sure she had a wriggling snake in her gut. She resisted the urge to double over and groan. How much pain could one bad hotdog cause?
She looked at the port-a-potty door hopefully, but no one came out. Come on. You should be done by now. Think of all the people writhing in pain behind you. Well, it was just Millie writhing in pain. The rest of the line seemed perfectly at easy. Their patient faces and easy stances annoyed Millie.
Why doesn’t someone knock on the door? They’ve been hogging the bathroom for long enough. Maybe they ate a hotdog.
Millie curled her toes and vowed never to eat from a food truck again. Her stomach gave a loud gurgle and the little girl whipped her head around so fast that her pigtails slapped the side of her head. After giving Millie a wide-eyed stare, she looked up at her mother.
“Why does that lady have a noisy stomach?” she asked. Her mother shushed her, and Millie wished she could melt into the grass. She tried to ease her embarrassment by reminding herself that she was the last in line. At least there would be no one waiting outside the door to hear the embarrassing noises that were sure to ensue the moment she got in the porta potty.
The line finally began to move again and Millie spent the rest of the wait clenching her butt cheeks so hard that she was sure she’d have buns of steel by the time this was over with.
She was almost giddy when it came time for the girl and her mom to go. Just one more person. We can do this stomach.
“I don’t want to go in,” the little girl said, lower lip jutting out.
“Are you sure you don’t want to at least try?” her mother asked. The girl shook her head.
Millie put a hand over her stomach and shifted from foot to foot. Just get in the dang port-a-potty!
“Alright, but I don’t want to hear that you have to go five minutes later.” The mother went in and left the girl to stare at Millie while she waited.
Just as Millie thought her stomach would explode from pain, the mother came out. Millie moved faster than she had to get the last big screen TV in a Black Friday sale.
What happened after she closed the door, she preferred to blot out of her memory.
Feeling like she’d been rescued from drowning, she unlocked the door, thinking again how lucky she was that no one was in line behind her.
The smile melted off her face as the door swung open. In front of her stood the very wide-eyed girl in pigtails.