Poop Chute Toot Toot

Its a little disconcerting when you walk into your office restroom facilities (most lovingly referred to in our place of work as 'The House the Poo Fairy Built') and all is quiet. You get a little relaxed, maybe make a little more noise than usual, maybe slam the stall door a bit harder than you intended, and let out that exhilarant exhilation of, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." as you sit your bare buttocks on your throne-of-choise's cold plastic seat.

Sidenote for the squeamish: for brevity's sake I've left out the details of the paper-spreading ritual and the whistling of 'Old Susanna' that usually acts as soundtrack.

The source of my disconcersion (that's probably not a word, maybe it should be consternation?) comes when after all this excessive noise making and possibly a little flatulence just prior to your intial push-and-pinch (or push-and-plop for those of you with looser sphincters than I), you hear in the stall adjacent a muffled, 'sniffle, sniffle, cough, cough'.

'Egad!', you think to yourself, 'there's bears in them there woods!'

Once busted you do what every normal, relatively young, selfrespecting person does and mentally switch your ass to stealth mode and try to quietly sloop and ploop the rest of your delivery into its watery resting place all the while hoping to the heavens the chili you ate for lunch doesn't make a rumbling return anytime soon.

Sidenote #2: I mentioned "relatively young" in the paragraph above only because I've had the pleasure of passing my thoroughly digested munchables, along with some thoroughly undigested peanuts and corn, on to the treatment plant while the stall next to me was being occupied by a gentleman that was neither young nor apparently selfrespecting 'cause he let the shit fly like he was late for his own funeral. His advanced age and relaxed muscular structure also caused some unnecessary and quite clappy flappiness that was just uncalled for and more than a little embarassing.

At the end of it all, what made things that much more disconcerting and odd was the fact that after completing my quarterly review with the Department of Wastewater Management, washing (with soap) and drying both hands and all my fingers, and walking out of the Poo Fairy's abode, the coughing sniffler (who was there before I entered) was still sitting (I hope) in his stall coughing and sniffling with no end in sight.

There's gotta be some kind of fetish in there somewhere. I just hope he wasn't offended by the hints of rapini and asparagus I left behind. After all, I wouldn't want to be rude.