If you’re not down with scatological humor (and by the way, is that not the most perfect sounding word for what it means?), then I suggest you skip this post. Most mornings I will go #2 and I will take some reading material with me while on the pot. As I’m reading this morning about the growing tension between Iran and the US, in walks another guy. I usually don’t like doing my business with someone else in the bathroom. It just feels weird to me to hear somebody else’s poop sounds. One of my mission companions swore that if you forced two mortal enemies to poop next to each other, they would come out friends. Anyway, I’m hoping that he only needs to use the urinal. To my dismay, he opts for the stall so I’m thinking, great, I just started so we’re gonna be here the whole time together. But I noticed that I didn’t hear the door close.
And that’s when it happened – for about two minutes I listened to the longest, most powerful stream of wizz that I’ve ever heard. He never stopped to catch his breath, he just went. And right in middle of the toilet, echoes reverberating throughout the bathroom. While he’s starting to pierce the porcelain with his water cannon, he makes a phone call and doesn’t miss a beat. He was as composed in the conversation as if he had taken the call while lying on a raft in middle of his pool at his estate. What’s even more interesting was that it wasn’t a friend that he was talking to, unless his friend likes hearing about renovation projects and where we plan on building and remodeling. It was such an odd experience, I just had to tell you about it. The picture is to scale, complete with the open door on his stall.
And that’s when it happened – for about two minutes I listened to the longest, most powerful stream of wizz that I’ve ever heard. He never stopped to catch his breath, he just went. And right in middle of the toilet, echoes reverberating throughout the bathroom. While he’s starting to pierce the porcelain with his water cannon, he makes a phone call and doesn’t miss a beat. He was as composed in the conversation as if he had taken the call while lying on a raft in middle of his pool at his estate. What’s even more interesting was that it wasn’t a friend that he was talking to, unless his friend likes hearing about renovation projects and where we plan on building and remodeling. It was such an odd experience, I just had to tell you about it. The picture is to scale, complete with the open door on his stall.
3 comments:
I'm sitting in a public library reading this entry and doing my best not to bust out laughing. Silent laughter in a silent place is some of the funniest laughter. My stomach still hurts.
That is a great word. And I'm not grossed out by it. In fact, if you'd like to learn more about me than anyone should, check out my post from 8/23/06.
There is this kind of big wig partner in my office (a male) and one of my friends that I work with (also male) used to always run into this partner in the bathroom and said that he would ALWAYS talk on his cell phone while pooping...and to clients at that!! I could never look at this partner the same after hearing that. Being a female (and not having very many female partners in the office), I fortunately did not have to run into many superiors in the bathroom. I was always interested in what my male collegues talked to the partners about when they happened to be using urinals next to each other. oh, and i could probably write an entire blog about those people in the office that you don't know too well that you happen to walk into the bathroom together at the same time and they insist on continuing to talk to you the entire time while both of you are in the stall. i hate that! ok, enough bathroom talk for one day.
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