Sunday, March 9, 2008

Wrong Place but the Right Thing to Do

My friends and I went bar hopping one night and ended up at this really small bar. The total capacity is probably only like 60 people, and it was over capacity this particular night. From time to time I go out and realize once I’m out that I have to go to the bathroom, and I’m not talking about taking a leak. Nothing stirs up panic quite like having that uneasy rumbling in your tummy and your body’s automatic response of clinching up your butt cheeks.

Like I said, this night was a little crowded in this tiny bar, and there were about 6 guys in line for the mens room. I waited, waited, and waited some more, and finally I started looking around to see if I could shit in a corner because these guys were taking forever. About that time a girl came out of the ladies room and there were no other girls in line. Nobody else jumped in there within 5 seconds so I darted in and shut the door behind me. Ahh…finally some relief for my unhappy colon. About 30 seconds in I heard a hand jiggle the door handle and try to come in. I had locked the door just in case which turned out to be a good decision. The girl was obviously impatient as I sat there making sure I was truly done. Once I was done I washed my hands and gave the toilet a flush with my foot. I knew it was going to be a little awkward walking out the door leaving a smelly bathroom for the next person, especially since I was using the ladies room to spread my funky joy. There was only one thing to do…walk out like I owned the place. By this time the girl was pounding on the door so I was pretty annoyed. Just as I was unlocking the door I heard the unmistakable sound of water pouring onto the floor. I turned around and saw a mixture of brown water and toilet paper pouring over the rim of the toilet like the eruption of Pompeii. “Fuck it” I said. I continued as planned…walked out that ladies room door like I owned the place. The girl who had been pounding on the door had a look of shock on her face when she saw a man come out of the ladies room. I said “enjoy yourself,” winked at her, and walked right past her to get the beer I left at the bar. I made it about 3 steps when I heard a shriek, followed by an “oh my…” and then a gagging sound. I felt like a million bucks, not just because I had unloaded my dinner on the floor of the ladies room, but because I had made a girl physically ill as a result of my bodily functions.

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