I recently took a huge dump at Barnes & Noble. Anyone who knows me, or has read enough of the things that I write will know that browsing leads to photo finishes in the restroom. Bookstores are the worst for this, especially since I usually end up with a coffee in my hand, which is yet another of my favorite and most effective laxatives. So there I was, racing from the bargain bin to the lavatories, desperately hoping that my usual stall was free.
Yeah, I have a usual stall.
Yeah, I am worried that the Barnes & Noble people refer to me as “The Shit Guy” or “Mr. Poo Dude” or “Maybe we should just stop serving him coffee”.
So I did my business. I won’t get into graphic details, but let’s just say I lost about five pounds. As I was pressing the little flush handle (by the way, I love that they haven't switched to those automatic flushers yet, because it allows me to better control courtesy flushing, as well as the timing of everything as I stand up to wipe), someone who must have recently entered the bathroom (like a ninja, I must say, since I didn’t even hear the door open) shouted something out to me.
"CAREFUL WITH THE FLUSH IN THAT FIRST STALL."
It was too late, I had already flushed, but everything seemed to go down correctly. When I exited the stall I saw a guy, probably in his twenties, holding a wrench, and wearing some sort of tool belt. He looked at me and said, "Sorry for yelling, I wasn't sure it would flush right, I'm here to fix that one" as he walks past me and heads directly into the stall I just annihilated with a few days’ worth of bad eating (Chinese food, pizza, brie… some kind of onion soup… many eggs).
I turned around to advise him against immediate entry into the danger zone, but I was too late. So I say to him, "Well, in that case, let me apologize for the air quality in there." I was tempted to add in a “That skid mark on the bottom was totally already there when I arrived.” Also worried that he might lift up the seat, I could have potentially added “Any below the seat markings were probably not from me.”
Anyways, before I could add anything else onto my apology (for what had to be a brutal scene), without skipping a beat, this is what the guy says to me, from his KNEES in the stall, FACING a toilet that I had just destroyed.
"Welcome to my office."
It sounded so HARD and so wise. The dude was twenty-something, but clearly, as my brother said, "When you work a shitty job like that, you grow up real fast." I don't think my brother actually said 'SHITTY' job, but I felt the pun worked rather well. Sorry big brother, if I misquoted you.
I realize that the holidays are over, and many of us are bummed that we have to wake up early again, go to the office, and pretend to work for eight hours. Well, the next time you go to the washroom, any washroom really, and are face to face with a clogged poopy toilet, just remember, THAT could be your office.
Suddenly the cubicle seems pretty nice, doesn’t it?
That's it. I need to go look at books, I’m pretty backed up from all that holiday eating.