Imagine a world where you could peacefully go to the bathroom whenever you wanted.
Adiós, anxious pee dance.
Hello, rewarding music of a crisp toilet flush.
Airpnp, an app designed for emergencies “down there,” lets you christen a stranger’s toilet for a small fee.
I probably have a tiny bladder, because I can recall multiple occasions where I’ve been at a loss of what to do because I need to find a bathroom.
I get tunnel vision.
I think everyone’s had that moment when you’re squatting behind some random bush on trespassed property, praying that nobody sees you rid yourself of your bodily fluids.
All you want is a toilet, but no, there are thorns everywhere and you’re unsure if your underwear accidentally touched the dirt on the ground.
There’s a 50 percent chance your business got on your pants, but you quickly gather your wits and head out into the real world.
Now those harrowing experiences can become distant memories.
The past is finally in the past.
I’ve come to the conclusion that there is an app for every plight of the common human.
It’s fantastic, unnecessary, but oddly accessible at the same time.
Co-founders Max Gaudin and Brian Berlin created the Airpnp app.
It allows for business to get done pronto.
No need to wait in pesky lines or have that annoying pregnant woman cut you.
The saying “mi casa es su casa,” has never been more applicable.
Airpnp allows people to rent their royal thrones to strangers in need.
These bathrooms could be creepy and possibly unsanitary, but the need for relief is real, and sometimes you just gotta go.
A stranger’s bathroom is now your oyster — you can sing, grunt, bob for apples, have a rave or just do your business.
It sounds great in theory, but there are a few significant flaws that make Airpnp a messy app.
For instance, according to Airpnp the only private restroom available in Indiana for a good ol’ pit stop is located in West Lafayette, a two-hour drive away.
To use the “Hilltop Boiler Restroom,” it’s a grand $2.00. Unfortunately, it’s advertised as “the best Purdue restroom out there,” which in Hoosier language is code for “the worst bathroom in the whole entire world.”
I’m okay with admitting I’d rather pee my pants than take a tinkle in a Purdue latrine.
But maybe doing number two would give me some strange satisfaction.
Eat that, random Purdue toilet.
I’m not sure which would be worse, being the renter of the toilet or being the host of the bathroom.
On one side, if you were the host, your bathroom sanctuary would hopefully be clean.
But would it be clean after you allow complete strangers with a dire need to use the facilities, use your facility?
On the other side, the stranger’s bathroom you paid real money to use is probably A. full of drugs, B. infested with asbestos, C. smells like an elephant’s ass, or D. all of the above.
It’s a lose-lose situation. You might just have to hold it.
This article was originally published as a column for the Indiana Daily Student on 29 January 2015.