Looking for an outhouse

Yes, today I was looking for an outhouse or any version of a private bathroom where I could...ahem...sorry to say...regurgitate my minuscule lunch.  Yuck!  I haven't been one to have a lot of PB incidents but when it does happen, it's bizarre.  Firstly, I can not and will not make audible regurgitating noises in public...call me crazy but there are just some bodily sounds that should be kept to one's self.  Today's lunch presented an interesting challenge when I had barely had any of my cold drink followed by hot soup and found myself being in desperate need of a safe haven, a private refuge, a temple of salvation where I could part with my much needed nutrition in relative solitude. 

Never have I wanted to use a private bathroom more.  Thank goodness there was one nearby but I had to restrain myself from pounding on the door demanding the lady who was in there get out as her five allotted minutes must surely be up and what in the world was she doing in there all that time.  She smiled as I nearly toppled her over on my way in.  What is wrong with women...can we not attend to our business in a timely manner knowing there is likely a line/cue forming outside.  Fortunately though, I made it in just in time.   This band is wild.  I hope it loosens soon or I'm going to have to plot out the locations of private bathrooms in a ten mile radius...lol.