If your body sends you a message during a concert, answer it.
Do not leave it on read.
The bathroom is not your enemy. It is not a moral failure. It is not a betrayal of the artist, the fandom, or the sacred barricade. It is a room specifically designed for the situation you are pretending is not happening.
Leaving your spot for three minutes may feel tragic. But it is less tragic than becoming a story venue staff tell each other for the rest of their lives.
No one wants to hear, “I saw them on the tour where someone pooped by the wall.”
That is not a tour memory. That is a workplace trauma.