A Most Unwelcome Emission

Ladies and germs, if I may: this post is devoted to another in my ongoing, albeit seemingly random, public service announcements but I heard something today that absolutely has COMPELLED me to write. As you know I have been, for some time now, a purveyor of information that some may dismiss as nothing more than bathroom humor. Literally. To that I say: go fuck yourselves; this shit is fo real, yo! There's folks out there getting bombarded with the most heinous of offenses and frankly someone has to speak up and in some small way, alert the world that perps of this grotesque magnitude exist, indeed, walk amongst us.

Today a coworker came to me extremely distraught (understandably as you will learn) and proceeded to unload (pun intended) a most disturbing story. Said coworker (for what it's worth, a guy...since I've dissed the dirty ladies twice I figured I'd go ahead and spread the shame around) had just come from the men's room where he had encountered, no ENDURED, a horrific event that will most probably leave a permanent mental scar on this poor fellow.

There he was, standing at one of the urinals...doing your typically urinal kind of thing, when out of nowhere comes a very high-ranking MANAGER with whom this employee has extensive dealings. To put it bluntly, it's critical that my coworker maintain the proper sucking-up posture with this miscreant at all times. So, MANAGER saunters to the next urinal, whips out his dick and also begins to do a typically urinal kind of thing. Likewise he begins to engage my unwitting coworker in a conversation. Now, how many times do I have to repeat that TALKING IN THE STALL IS DISGUSTING!!! Unless you find yourself sliding irretrievably into a comatose puddle, it is NEVER APPROPRIATE TO ENGAGE FELLOW CRAPPERS OR PEE-ERS IN CONVERSATION OF ANY KIND!!! For one thing, there are times when breath is a precious commodity, such as when one is squeezing the equivalent of a ripe watermelon out of of one's ass, one needs to reserve ALL one's breath for that very arduous activity. The rare exception is again: help me, I think I'm dying in here or can you spare some toilet paper I'm completely out? And that's only if you're also out of those toilet seat covers, which, by the way, double nicely as toilet paper in a pinch. HAH! Pun intended. But seriously, THAT'S IT!!

Well, apparently this management moron was raised on another planet (as, sadly, so many of them seem to have been) because as soon as his golden stream began it's liquid descent he engaged my coworker in a very hearty conversation whose topic(s) demanded responses. My coworker, being a decent fellow, was understandably completely unnerved by the turn of events but, being the good, upwardly mobile young professional that he is, stammered out some appropriate answers and tried to finish up as quickly as possible. Everything was moving toward as decent a conclusion as could be expected when, like a thunderclap from Hades itself, and, without losing a syllable of his surely inane conversation, MANAGER lets out what has been described to me as the biggest, loudest, LONGEST fart you can imagine. Coworker went so far as to say "he really had to work to get it all out."

Shocking doesn't cover it. Appalled, deeply offended, intimidated and downright terrified begin to address how my poor, unwitting coworker felt. Where to turn? What to say? How to successfully hold one's breath while still trying to maintain the conversation that ABSURDLY was still ongoing once the ass trumpet had concluded it's horrific symphony.

I'm exhausted just writing this, so I can only imagine the trauma that my fellow laborer-in-arms felt, surely must STILL be feeling, to have been exposed to such an inhuman experience. Bewildered by how to proceed he simply finished as quickly as possible, zipped up and excused himself with some mumbled reference to being late for a meeting. He didn't even WASH HIS HANDS properly, so disoriented was he by what had just transpired.

Well, I offered him some Advil and what was left of my Diet Coke, after having given him full use of my Purell hand sanitizer. (Hey, I'm sympathetic, not a fucking saint, he DID say he didn't wash properly, Jeez). He accepted my ministrations and I told him he should seriously consider heading home early which I hope he did; an event like that needs longer than just an evening from which to recover.

To conclude and please spread the word: BATHROOMS ARE FOR ELIMINATING BODILY WASTES, they are NOT CHATROOMS! Do your fucking business and get the fuck out!! Nobody wants to fucking "catch up" with you in there; it's a godamn, fucking bathroom for crying out loud. And please, please, please, if you think that there's even a REMOTE chance that you're going to crack one off, get your sorry, lame, ignorant ass into a STALL!!! This is a civil society we're trying to live in here, either participate in good faith or log off the grid, motherfucker! (Log! HAH!)