I work in an office…
I enjoy the time I have alone during the day taking a crap…
It is the single most fulfilling event in many of my average days…
I like getting paid to wipe my ass…
It makes me feel important.
Knowing that, you now also know that I am a very lucky person, mostly bad luck…but lucky none the less.
A few months ago I was sitting in the handicapped stall (I like to be able to sprawl out, plus if they don’t want to be treated any differently then they can use the tiny stall with the door that opens so close to the toilet you actually have to step in the toilet to get out of the stall, just like every other able bodied human) and I was enjoying a nice post lunch dookie.
As I was nearing the end of my time in bathroom a person came in and took the stall next to me. Now, I ain’t exactly the squeamish type but there is just something about hearing another man’s ass cheeks spread as he sits and the sound his anus makes as it lightly dilates, preparing it’s self for the task ahead, followed by the pungent aroma of 4 hours of sweat and underpants…it’s enough to make a grown man cry.
Anyway…as he and I share the moment, both squatting over a dark inviting hole doing our business I happen to look down and notice his shoes. They were white tennis shoes, fairly new, nice, but not my style. We continue our journey…
I was getting ready to clean up the work site when this speedy guy starts to do the same. He couldn’t have been in there for more then 45 seconds it wasn’t his turn!!! No worries though…what could I do? The rules are the rules. I am assuming he was late for something cause that’s the only valid reason a man should ever need to take a dump that quick and break the bathroom exit line.
Sitting quietly on the edge of vomiting waiting for him to leave because two men cannot, without destroying a piece of their soul, make eye contact after something as traumatic as listening to another man’s most intimate grunts, I wait. He gets up, zips his pants, and flushes the toilet with his foot. Immediately I could tell something was wrong. The toilet made an unnatural gurgle and a split second after that deafening noise came the floods…the floods that included not only toilet water but this man’s used toilet paper, and if I may be so bold, HIS FUCKING TERDS! The waters coming ever closer to this mans nice new shoes forced the man to grab hold of the top of the stall and as I saw his hands come over the top I instantly saw his feet dissapear. This was an altehtic man because from his death grip position on the flooding stall’s wall he was able to open the door and escape, without washing his hands, without apologizing, and without calling for assistance. So, surrounded by this mans lunch, asshole drying out, trying to figure out how in the hell to get out of this prison unscathed I had to take the plunge. I put my feet down and finished up. As I was leaving I almost slip and fall, which I feel would have qualified me for some kind of military award. I escape…and get back to the office to tell the others of my adventure.
I never saw those tennis shoes again…and I will never forget what happened in that stall that warm summer day…
