Fecal Matters

Let’s talk about poop.

Wait, that’s not right. That’s exactly what my problem is. I go to talk about something, and then the conversation always seems to go back to poop.

Let’s talk about talking about poop. Much better.

I guess that I talk about poop a lot. Also, I guess that isn’t normal. But, see, you can understand why I didn’t realize that it isn’t normal, because it’s how I was raised.

Poop is a subject that always seems to come up when my extended family gets together. I think that we really try to maintain some semblance of dignity, because we never open Thanksgiving dinner with “So, take any good shits lately?” It’s not that direct. It just seems to creep its way into the conversation. We’ll be talking about someone’s recent hospitalization, and someone will ask how he gets to the bathroom, and all of a sudden, the floodgates open. That small amount of dignity we had attempted to maintain goes out the door (and my dad usually follows it; he’s not a big supporter of Thanksgiving dinner poop conversations), and it’s not long before we’re crying into our stuffing with laughter as we try to top each other’s fecal stories.

I don’t think people believe me when I tell them that this is what my family is like. When a friend finds “The Kama Pootra: 52 Mind-Blowing Ways to Poop” propped up on my coffee table and I tell him that it was a Christmas present from my mother, I get a skeptical look. When someone says something like, “I can’t believe my grandma got a Facebook, I can’t let her see all these embarrassing photos of me” and I reply, “Well, my grandma’s favorite word is ‘shit,’ so I don’t have much to hide from her,” people surely wonder. But it’s true. I really do tell my mom about this awesome fart app that Brad downloaded to his phone and she really does reply that she already has it, and that I should try this other one that’s much funnier.

All this is to say that I’ve always thought it fairly normal to discuss poop in everyday conversation. Luckily, most of my friends either think so too, or they’re so used to me bringing it up that they’ve just given in and they allow the conversation to progress in that direction.

But I’m beginning to learn that it’s really not the sort of conversation topic that is appropriate in every situation. Who knew?

The workplace, for instance, is somewhere that, if I want to maintain any sense of maturity and respect, I cannot discuss poop. The other day, the ladies’ room on our floor was “out of order” because, we had heard, someone had created such a mess in there that it required heavy duty cleaning (no pun intended).

Now, come on. It was the perfect segue into a casual, speculative conversation about what may have caused some woman to make such a mess. What she had eaten. Whether or not she’d gotten it all over the walls. How bad it smelled. My mind was full of such questions, but, inquisitive as I was, I couldn’t ask the other girls in the front office their opinions on the matter. I really like having a job; it’s not worth losing because I can’t keep my mouth shut and my face straight when somebody tells me that there’s a terrible mess in the bathroom.

I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep up the act, though. The longer I work there, the more comfortable I become with my co-workers, and the less I consciously edit myself before I speak. I know that one of these times, somebody’s going to say something like, “I’m going to Starbucks, do you want anything?” And I’ll say, “Oh, yeah, that’s perfect! I haven’t pooped all day, I need something to kick-start my digestive system!”

I know this will happen because it’s who I am. It’s in my nature. The other day at a party, after I’d had a rousing doo-doo conversation with a friend, another old friend who I hadn’t seen in years approached me and said, “By the way, Em, I overheard you talking about poop earlier, and I just want you to know I’m glad nothing’s changed.”

I was glad, too. Maybe I shouldn’t like the fact that talking about poop is something I’m known for, but I do. Because I can’t help but maintain that I’m in the right on this one. A process that every animal on earth regularly goes through (well, some more “regularly” than others) should not be as taboo as it is. Everybody poops. I have a book that proves it. You can borrow it, if you’d like some scientific evidence on the matter.

What I’m trying to say is that the easiest way to strike up a conversation, especially with someone you don’t know very well, is to bring up a topic that affects everyone, such as the weather. But it doesn’t get much more universal than poop. I can’t think of an easier way to shoot the shit (God, I’m on a roll today) with a casual acquaintance than to discuss something that everybody, by our very nature, must do in order to live.

And not only is it universal; it’s such a common phenomenon that you’ll create (more or less) daily conversation material. Think about how many days you’ve been alive. That’s about how many different poops you can talk about with someone. You’d be able to talk for hours. You’d never hit that awkward point in the conversation when you don’t know what else to talk about because you don’t know the person very well. You’ve kicked awkward in the face, and you can talk to anybody with confidence and ease, as long as you keep the conversation on poop.

Taboo subject? I’ve never heard of such a thing.

Poop talk. I’m bringin’ it back, man. I’m bringin’ it back.