I was out for a run before 7 that morning 

The rain clouds above were an ominous warning

At 33 weeks I was feeling full 

So was my bladder 

It was so humid out

I was only a mile in but it didn’t matter 

I had to go 

The pink plastic with the white roof – 3 units next to each other – glowed

RIght along the periphery of the elementary school 

I caught a whiff of them as I passed

Used the wooden pallets behind them as a tool (to hold my water bottle)

Luckily, the construction workers were not on site yet 

But there was a woman nicely dressed 

And our eyes briefly met

“You okay?” she asked me 

“Yep,” I said

“These atrocious loos can’t keep a pregnant runner away”

I was flushed, wet, totally covered in sunscreen and sweat 

She stared, incredulous 

As I came out of the porta john 

She was worried about me, I guessed

I felt a little lighter 

Asked her if she was tired 

As I started to jog and started my watch

She said, “Using those is worse than playing hop scotch!”

I told her a full bladder was worse 

She explained that the porta potties were cursed 

I paused, asked her how she knew 

She told me the kids from the school used ‘em, that she worked at that zoo 

“Well, bladder infections are bad,” I said 

I told her I’d wait so she wouldn’t end up dead 

And she approached, went in, then a minute later came out 

I handed her the hand sanitizer from my pocket 

She smiled, said she felt better 

The construction workers arrived 

And me and that summer school teacher took off 

Relieved, uncursed, alive