Monday, July 07, 2008

Legends of the Stall



There is an Uncle Ted with OCD using my restroom at work as a Safe Haven.

The other day, I had several meetings scheduled and I needed to take a dump. I'm much more patient and less cranky in meetings if my bowels are clear. Aren't you?

But every time I tried to take care of business, the 2-hole crapper was full. All morning long. Shareholder value probably dropped a couple of percentage points due to my inability to focus on the task at hand because I was distracted by the nefarious rumblings of my nether regions.

Finally, shortly after lunch, I get a clear shot! I mount my customary throne in the spacious and luxurious handicapped stall (it's O.K., we ain't got no cripples on my floor so nobody cares). No sooner than I get "situated" but here comes somebody else who immediately plops his ass down in the stall next to mine.

Now, customarily, it is not unusual for the new arrival in this type of situation to assume that the other person is further along in his "business" and they may decide to wait until the incumbent has finished up and exited the facility before really cutting loose. It's common courtesy, really.

I wasn't having any of that shit. I'd been waiting for this stall all fucking day. No way I was going to exit prematurely out of "protocol". I didn't have any meetings for the next hour or so. I'm waiting this fucker out. The war is ON!

So I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.

We're talking a good 10-15 minutes. There is NO activity from the other side. Nada. Zip. Complete silence. I thought that was very strange.

Then, finally, there is a big long pull on the toilet paper roll. YESSSS! I WON! PUSSY! Get the fuck out of here and let the champion get his stink on!

But then, there was more silence. Nothing for probably another 2-3 minutes.

Then, another long pull on the TP. Followed by another 2-3 minutes of nothingness.

This pattern kept repeating itself at least half a dozen times. Maybe more. It was surreal.

What in the fuck was he doing over there? Hell the fucking automatic toilet gave him at least half a dozen "courtesy flushes" because it thought he was done too!

And the thing is, this wasn't the first time I had been in the stall next to this asshat. I recognized the pattern of behavior! The first time I just figured maybe the guy ate some bad fish tacos and was having issues.

But this time I recognized a repeat offender! So I totally breached bathroom etiquette. I glanced at the floor of his stall and saw the company ID clipped to his pants and got his name.

Sly McShitterstein. (do I really need to put a disclaimer here...I didn't think so.)

After apparently using up every sheet of TP in his stall in the most bizarre manner imaginable, he finally stands up and puts himself back together. But just pulling up his fucking pants, tucking shit in and exiting the stall takes another 2-3 minutes.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE, FREAK?!?

He finally leaves, I win, and I finish my business. By this time I've been in the shitter what, 3 hours? Sure as fuck seems that way.

I head back to my desk. First stop...Company Directory!

I find McShitterstein and guess what...he works in Information Technology.

Dum dum duuummmmm! That's where they keep the freaks with interpersonal issues. Why am I not surprised?

So I pull up the picture from his HR ID. Not a face I recognize. I've been on my floor for over 3 years. This guy has not been in a meeting with anybody on my floor, ever.

He is making a special point of coming to my hood, on my time, to take his freaky little OCD IT shits (that only seem to consume TP and toilet water without producing any actual shit).

And there ain't a goddamn thing I can do about it!

I can't pound on the stall wall and yell "Yo! OCD IT Freak! Take it somewhere else! Normal people here gotta shit!"

That could be appraisal affecting.

I can't confront him publicly, because then I would be outed as having breached the security of the stall wall by glancing at his ID.

So what can I do? I can't do nuthin. At least nuthin that don't involve a car battery, some copper wire and a remote control.

But again, that could be appraisal affecting.

About the only option I have is embarking on a "War Against OCD IT Freaks" diet.

Big huge bowls of refried beans, asparagus, raw vidalia onions eaten like apples, undercooked salmon, corn on the cob, jalepenos, store brand generic hot dogs, 7-11 microwave burritos all washed down by the cheapest beer and bourbon I can find.

BMMD.

Bowel Movement of Mass Destruction.


The Shit Bomb.

We're talking a lot of collateral damage. Innocent civilians. Coworkers. Contractors. Vendors. Salespeople. Possibly even other people sharing our elevator shaft. It could be that bad.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

BTW - While searching for images for this post, I found this idea which is possibly the greatest travel accessory invention EVER!



Both educational and convenient.

Fucking brilliant.

12 comments:

travel said...

Maybe he was waiting for you to .. kinda slide your foot into his stall..you sexy devil.

haha

Xavier Onassis said...

travel - ROFLMAO. I have a very, very narrow stance! If I could get both of my feet into the same shoe...that's how narrow my stance would be.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

MoxieMamaKC said...

I love Man Code Bathroom stories. You boys are SOOO uptight about getting down to business with other guys it's kind of endearing. I laughed reading this...not sure which was funnier, your story or Travel's comment. 'Cause it gave you the willies, you red-blooded American male, you...didn't it? Thanks for your humor, as usual.

Andrew said...

You were side carred, plain and simple. The side car is one of the rudest things a guy can do to another guy (no homo).

Anyways, my rule is to pick up and get out of town when side carred. I don't want to wait around for the other guy's jailbreak (note 1).

When you commence a fly by (note 2) and to avoid being a frequent flyer (note 2) I suggest you seek your own FORTRESS Of SOLITITUDE. (note 3).

Hope these hints help, heck, I'm even mortified when I issue the occasional ESCAPEE (note 4).

End Notes (no homo)
------------------------
(1) Jailbreak: When forcing a dump, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhea or a hangover. If this should happen, do not panic. Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.


(2) The act of scouting out a bathroom before taking a dump. Walk in and check for other guys taking a dump. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.

(3) Fortress of solitude is a bathroom less traveled and most likely in the basement of your office building or in the basement of an adjacent office bukdling.

(4) Escapee: a fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a dump in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of embarrassment. If you release an escapee, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it did not happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you did not hear it. No one likes an escapee. It is uncomfortable for all involved. Making a joke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.

meesha.v said...

In the army sometimes I had to do it in the field above some trench in the clear view of everyone else. Since then bathroom etiquette is one of the most important things to me. My digestive system is specifically trained to make it home without having to endure bathroom company. We have a guy who goes like a clock with the book, on schedule etc. I thought about posting his bathroom visitation log on the door.

Xavier Onassis said...

meesha - sounds like you are dealing with an:

OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER
Definition: A colleague who poops at work and is damn proud of it. You will often see an Out of the Closet Pooper enter the bathroom with a newspaper or magazine under their arm. Always look around the office for the Out of the Closet pooper before entering the bathroom.

P.S. You can often tell where an OOTCP has marked his territory by leaving the sports section of the newpaper draped over the handicap access rail.

P.S.S. - Warning! The OOTCP handled the sports section POST touching his junk and PRE washing his hands. I'm just sayin'.

Dexter Colt said...

Nothing pisses me off more then when I'm doing my bombing run and some asshole thinks I need a wingman.

I've been considering water balloons as a deterrent.

Chimpo said...

If someone starts waiting on me, I just bomb them. Then I sit and wait and let them soak it in.

I am also strongly against guys who leave the bathroom if the stall they want is not open. Unless all of them are full or someone pulled a good ol' no flush, sit your ass down.

Dan said...

Dexter has the right idea. I once faced a related issue at work, back when I was washing dishes in college. My co-dish-washer had a habit of sneaking into the crapper for a half hour rest, always at the height of dinner rush. Once, I grabbed a huge wad of paper towels, soaked them in water, and dunked them over the stall wall. Ran back to the dishwashing station, only to see my coworker standing there, doing his job.

Some poor customer got what he didn't deserve. Karma is out to get me, I know.

Midtown Miscreant said...

what I find most offensive is the seeming absence of a courteousy flush or a cover up flush in this story. While I admire your ability to handle your bidness away from home base, Ive got to say the whole waiting each other out thing is a little disconcerting.

Joe said...

When I worked at the alarm company and we answered calls at empty businesses at night, I would drop the bomb in the ladies bathroom and let it fester for a while, then button it all up. Women need to smell a healthy mans shit.

And, another name for the jailbreak is "The Symphony"

crseum said...

This post is why I read blogs, XO. Thank you.