There are two bathrooms to choose from on my office building’s floor – a large one and a small one. I usually go to the large one because when you really think about exactly what a bathroom is you realize that you would have to be a real moron to choose to use a smaller, more enclosed space for its designated purpose. But today I was kind of in a rush so I went to the smaller bathroom, the one with two urinals and four stalls, a layout suggesting it was designed entirely around the Atkins diet.
In any event, I rushed in and went to one of the urinals. There was a man next to me who seemed put off by the fact that I choose to stand next to him, so out of spite I moved my foot closer to his. As I started to go, I noticed that I also had to fart. (Please, if anyone is having any trouble with the words or concepts here, just email me. I know sometimes me writing is a little dense.) The problem is, I know it’s going to make noise. Like a mother who knows when her child is in danger, I just know. I decide against letting it go, but in a moment of weakness a small toot is released. It is certainly loud enough for the guy next to me to hear it, and me knowing this immediately becomes one of the funniest things in the history of time. My valiant attempts to stifle the laughter succeed for the most part, if you measure success by the degree to which you fail but don’t care because it’s still funny.
Finally, the guy next to me finishes, flushes and goes to wash his hands. Then, as he is leaving and the door is just about closed behind him, I not only let rip an enormous, resounding fart, but immediately following that I laugh and laugh and laugh – loudly – but I don’t care because I’m just standing at a urinal, peeing and farting and having a grand old time. I was one head rush away from screaming, “YOU CAN’T STOP ME! YOU CAN’T HOLD ME DOWN! U-S-A! U-S-A!” It was an euphoric moment . . .
. . . until I heard a flush from one of the stalls behind me. Apparently in my hurry I hadn’t noticed that there was someone in one of the stalls. So here I am having a veritable party with myself, thinking I’m all alone, when in fact there is some poor asshole in the stall waiting for everyone to leave so he can take a shit, but instead being forced to witness my borderline psychotic behavior. I figured I could play it two ways: I could rush out of the bathroom and not let him see my face, or I could take my time, come face to face with him and say, “Hey, Chuck,” no matter who it was just so when he tells people the story he will include the fact that I was incoherent at the time.
In the five seconds I had to make the choice before he opened the stall door, I fortunately used the first three to replay the incident in my head again, leaving me two whole seconds to literally run from the bathroom. Did I wash my hands? No. Am I proud of that? No. Am I proud of the fact that one day after writing an email to all my friends and using the phrase, “We’re all grown ups here,” that this happens? Yes, absolutely.
Also, I included a picture of a panda because I don’t have a picture that’s actually appropriate for the post. And pandas are fascinating creatures.