Today, sitting at a bar, we decided we didn’t want to talk about work.

No politics. No religion. No serious problems. No heavy conversations.

Just something completely different.

And somehow, I don’t even remember exactly how we got there, we ended up talking about how the human body works.

Men. Women. Going to the bathroom. Peeing. Pooping. Farting.

Yes. That was the conversation.

And we were cracking up.

We started sharing our own experiences, stories we’d heard about other people, embarrassing moments, things that had happened with friends, partners, family — and the more we talked about it, the funnier it became.

At some point I started thinking:

Why are we so embarrassed about this?

Seriously.

We pee. We poop. We fart.

There. I said it.

Everybody does it.

It’s not something that happens to one weird person somewhere in the world. Our bodies literally need to do these things.

And yet, depending on who we’re with, suddenly we’re terrified of anybody knowing that our perfectly normal human body is functioning.

Think about it.

There are people around whom you would NEVER say:

“I need to poop.”

Instead, it’s the very polite:

“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

That’s it.

Nobody needs to know what is happening behind that d7.30

oor.

Then you have those people in your life.

Your close friends. Your family. Maybe your partner. The people you trust enough that the filter is gone.

“I need to pee.”

“I need to poop.”

“Wait for me. I need the bathroom.”

Nobody cares.

And then, of course, there’s the fart.

That’s a completely different level.

Because sometimes you don’t plan it.

It just happens.

And for about two seconds your brain goes:

Oh shit. I fucked up.

Did they hear it?

Did they smell it?

Do I acknowledge it?

Do I pretend nothing happened?

Can I blame the chair?

And when you’re with someone you really trust, sometimes everyone just starts laughing.

Because what else are you supposed to do?

You’re human.

But it’s interesting how much our reaction changes depending on the person sitting next to us.

With one person, you’re mortified.

With another, you’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe.

With a good friend, it might become a story that gets repeated for the next ten years.

And with family? Depending on your family, there might not even be a story because nobody cares anymore.

Romantic relationships have their own version of this too.

In the beginning, everyone is on their best behavior.

Apparently nobody poops.

Nobody farts.

Nobody burps.

Nobody wakes up with bad breath.

We’re all beautifully scented creatures whose digestive systems apparently stop functioning whenever we’re attracted to somebody.

Until real life eventually shows up.

And maybe that’s actually one of those strange little signs of trust — when you stop worrying quite so much about being a perfectly presented version of yourself and become comfortable enough to simply be human.

Then there’s something else we talked about that I know cannot possibly happen only to me.

You’re coming home and you’re completely fine.

Ten blocks away?

Fine.

Five blocks away?

Still fine.

Then you see your building.

Suddenly your body knows.

Two blocks away:

Hmm. I need to use the bathroom.

One block away:

Okay. We need to hurry.

Waiting for the elevator:

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY.

And suddenly you’re searching for your keys like you’re trying to defuse a bomb.

WHY IS THE ELEVATOR SO SLOW TODAY?

Ten minutes ago you weren’t even thinking about the bathroom.

Now you’re negotiating with your own body:

Please. Just give me thirty more seconds.

How does it know we’re home?

That’s the kind of ridiculous conversation we were having today.

And we laughed.

A lot.

Not because there’s anything particularly sophisticated about talking about poop, pee or farts.

There isn’t.

Maybe that’s exactly what made it so much fun.

For a little while, nobody was talking about deadlines, work, politics, religion, problems or everything else we’re supposed to have an opinion about.

We were just a group of people sitting at a bar talking about something completely ordinary, sharing ridiculous stories and laughing at ourselves.

And underneath all the jokes, I actually found it interesting.

Why are we so uncomfortable talking about something so normal?

Why are we embarrassed when our bodies do exactly what they’re supposed to do?

Of course, not everybody wants to have this conversation.

And that’s okay.

For some people, bathroom talk is completely off-limits. For others, it’s hilarious. Some people need a lot of trust before they’ll talk about it. Others apparently just need a drink and a bar stool.

And maybe none of that really matters.

What I liked about today was how easy it was.

We weren’t trying to impress each other.

We weren’t solving anything.

We weren’t debating anything.

We were simply laughing about being human.

Because our experiences might be different, our embarrassing stories are definitely different, and our level of comfort talking about them might be completely different.

But the basic truth is the same.

Everybody pees.

Everybody poops.

Everybody farts.

And sooner or later, everybody has desperately waited for an elevator while thinking:

Please, please, PLEASE open the door.

So maybe we don’t have to take ourselves quite so seriously.

Sometimes a stupid conversation is exactly what we need.

Just talk.

Laugh.

Be embarrassed.

Tell the story.

And be yourself.

Because everybody does it.

We just don’t usually talk about it.

Well… today we did.

And we had a damn good laugh.