Restroom sign in a space museum
This first part is from a 2015 post. The rest is new.)
My friend, Carole,
emailed this to me. Blame her!!
I went to Home Depot
recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one.
You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of
my patented 'you're definitely going to crap yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty
stuff, although hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written
guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks
will fall off.
Here's the thing. I had
awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know
what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement'. Despite the chili
swimming its way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual
morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.
Knowing that a time of
reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for Home
Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck. Upon
entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began
pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the
opposite end of the store from the toilets that the pain hit me.
Oh, don't look at me
like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh, Oh,
crap, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing
is, this pain was different. The chilies from the night before were staging a
revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the
small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I
could take one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring sweet
relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in
the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic cloud the likes of
which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more
of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure
seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and
out of it, just as a red apron clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed
any help.
I don't know what made
me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the toxic
non-visible fog that refused to dissipate.. Have you ever been torn in two
different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you
at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor clerk, but
didn't. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently
indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering
his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about
his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel
terrible, but then made me laugh. .........big mistake!!
Here's the thing. When
you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean.
With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some
were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had
ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a
shotgun.. Suddenly things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I
raced off through the store towards the toilet, laying down a cloud the whole
way, praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion took place.
Luck was on my side.
Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the e inevitable 'Oh my God',
floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning so bad, purging. One
poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of
'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said,
'Son-of-a-bitch!! Did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly
left.
Once finished and I left
the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my
shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to
step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb
in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or
two which ought to take care of the problem.'
My smirking of
course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took
one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at
me in an accusing manner shouted, 'It's you!!', then ran off returning moments
later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and
asked none too kindly not to return.
Home again without my supplies,
I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two
more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowe's. I can't say any more about
that because we are in court over the whole matter. Idiots claim they're going
to have to repaint the store.
These are from boredpanda.com:
Shouldn't public restrooms be shown on relief maps?----fishducky
