Needing to Poop
Today at work I needed to take a crap. I could feel that it was going to be of heroic proportion and so I was pleased to find our one-seat mens' room available. I was greeted by the stench of coworker poop. OK, I normally let the fan run for a while before entering if the guy before me has just dropped a brown bomb but if my brewing #2 had been a baby, my water would have broken and I would have been dialated to like 10cm. I sometimes use the single-toilet ladies' room to go but I just knew my business was going to be ripe-smelling and I DO have a small measure of respect. I HAD TO GO so I decided to bury my nose in my shirt like Bazooka Joe and breath my own deodorant. Then I saw the skid marks. It looked as if someone had spread cupcake frosting in the bowl. A simple extra flush is usually enough to rinse any residule fudge from our high-flo mixing bowl but after three flushes the brown smears were holding strong. Now, I'm not about to take a dump in a bowl of water teeming with deuce molocules from one of the sloppy Neanderthals with whom I work as my turds are likely to splash and I'll be damned if I will sully my pristine asshair with some dudes fecal atoms. (At least not without being wined and dined first.) As there was no toilet brush I decided to throw TP into the water as I flushed to hopefully scour the peanutbuttery sin away. Nothing!
"How much cheese do you have to eat for your shit to be as thick as Play-Doh???" I thought.
In the end I just lay down a a layer of TP as a splash-damper and drop my load. After I wiped, flushed and washed my hands I sprayed some air freshener and left the fan running as I exited. To my dismay, the boss was heading for the john. DAMN! Averting eye-contact, I just walked away. I didn't even try to explain that the mud-smudge in the bowl was there before me. I should have used the ladies' room.