How I almost peed outside the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception

Every time I go to a conference, people ask me "So did you get to see much of the city?" Ah, no. I can recall one year when I didn't leave the conference hotel for several days, nor did I get a chance to even see much sunlight.

This caged-bird approach isn't by choice. I would much rather be a tourist, out there pounding the pavement, checking out all that our nation's sprawling urban areas have to offer.

Instead, I'm usually chained to the registration desk, or you can find me pacing the exhibitor room tending to a dozen or so "Tiffany-can-you-help-me" requests.

But, at least once every conference, I get to see something cool. This year, that was the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. Say what? That's just a lot of fancy mumbo jumbo for one of the world's 10 largest churches (and one that happens to be Catholic, in honor of the Virgin Mary).


Our Friday evening reception was held there, including a short tour and presentation by the event sponsor.

The tour was first, and I was awestruck. Even though I've been to the Vatican in Rome, which is by far the world's most amazing house of worship (in my opinion), I was still wowed by the Shrine. The twist on this church is that it's so very modern.

When we first entered the Shrine, we walked past the gift shop and into the "crypt" portion of the church. First up was Memorial Hall.

What you see here is a statue dedicated to Mary, where people can light candles for those they love. All the walls and columns are marble, and every inch of them is carved in honor of people—living and dead. People paid $200 and up to have their friends and family etched in stone.


The guy in this picture with the sash is Sal, and he was our hilarious tour guide. Here he's showing us to the one crypt in the church, some lucky guy whose name I forget now.


This picture is of an enormous marble relief at the back of the sanctuary. To give you an idea of its size, it weighs 37 tons. Hope that glue they used holds!


These next two pictures make up two of the three huge domes in the sanctuary. My poor camera just doesn't do them justice.



Finally, check out this intimidating mosaic of Jesus. Doesn't look like a compassionate, loving God in this piece of art, does he? I suppose this is Mary's interpretation of Jesus (it is a church in her honor, after all!). Also creepy was the way his eyes stared you down no matter where you were in the sanctuary. If you could see him, he could definitely see you...


I know what you're wondering: where does the peeing part come into play? Here's the deal... after the tour, we had a 20-minute presentation by the sponsor for the night (Angel Food), then we regrouped in the dining room from some heavy hors d'ouevres and cocktails (love those Catholics!).

By this point in the week, I needed a drink. I had been in D.C. since Monday night, and I was pooped. So I helped myself to a beer, a glass of wine, and a hefty bottle of water. Those drinks helped me wash down the giant meatballs, chicken puffs, crudité and cheese I noshed on. This is all well and good seeing as how God gifted me with a bladder of steel.

The problem came in here: we had two mammoth tour buses carting our people around in D.C., and our attendees were ready to head on outta there. My colleagues and I decided to send them home on the buses while we waited behind to pack up the leftover beer and wine (which we got to take with us).

So we gathered up the three mixed cases of alcohol, our telescoping easel (for sponsor signage), and our backpacks of staff gear. We schlepped our junk out to the curb of the Shrine, and we assessed the availability of cabs. Huh. There weren't any. In fact, we weren't really in downtown anymore; instead we were in a college area, and the cabs were sparse at best.

My colleague decided to call and order up a cab. The operator on the line told her that she would call us back "as soon as I know when one's on it's way." Well when will that be? No clue, she said. It was, after all, Friday night, at 9:30 p.m. Everyone wanted a ride somewhere... and it wasn't on the way by the National Shrine.

We knew we were in trouble when all the Shrine staff filed out the door, packed into their cars and zoomed off into the night. There we were, the three of us sitting on a bench in front of the Shrine. We'd started to get loopy (even though we hadn't cracked into our extra alcohol), and we began to sing bar songs to keep us company (I busted out a little "Piano Man" for our enjoyment).

After an hour, my bladder of steel began to bulk. I tried to ignore it, but all the laughing I was doing from the bar-song sing-a-long was really testing my bladder's limits. Sometime in the space between calling the cab company and finally dialing our colleague back at the hotel to come rescue us, I seriously considered the option of peeing behind a bush on the lawn of the Shrine.

As I country girl, I don't shy away from a little squattie pottie, and the status of my lower half was growing more dire by the minute (plus, it was cold outside, and you know how cold can make you need to "go").

But! I restrained myself. And around 10:30/10:45 p.m. our colleague pulled up in front of our bench in a taxi, rescuing us—and my bladder—from camping out on the Shrine's lawn. She giggled as she opened the door, saying "I could hear you guys singing from the road." Man I would love to see the Shrine's security camera footage from that night!

End of story is this: I did NOT pee outside the Shrine, but I surely did want to. And, you must go see it if you're ever in D.C. It's breathtaking (potential pee stains and all!).