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Friday, December 9, 2011

Please Do Not Poo in Your Pants, Thanks

Fact: someone recently told me that they went into the bathroom of the restaurant they worked at in order to give it the cursory check. When emptying the trash can, inside it was a pair of neatly folded men's underwear that was full of shit. I can only imagine what led to that catastrophic event. I hypothesize:

It was a lovely Saturday morning in early fall when a man decided he wanted French Toast and bacon for breakfast. He took himself to the nearby diner and ordered his meal. As he waited for his food to arrive, his stomach began to rumble and moan a bit. "Hmmm," he thought. "Maybe I shouldn't have had that glass of Metamucil before I left the privacy of my own bathroom. Oh well. I'm sure everything will be fine." His waitress placed his order before him and he started eating, enjoying the fresh blueberries that were piled high on his plate. As he took a bite of his maple bacon that was cooked perfectly, his stomach again twitched. Suddenly, he realized that he needed to go to the bathroom. Immediately. Still chewing the bacon, he ran to the single occupancy facility. He surveyed the cleanliness of the bathroom and noticed there were no toilet liners making it necessary to place layers of toilet paper around the seat. Hurrying to strategically place the paper before he strategically placed his ass, he farted. Sensing urgency, he threw down his pants and sat on the toilet releasing his bowels just in time. Or so he thought. Looking down, he noticed what looked like the contents of a can of Wolf Brand Chili sitting in his underwear. "Oh my God. I just shit in my pants. I just fucking shit in my pants. Are you freakin' kidding me? Did I just shit in my fucking pants." Someone knocked on the door. "Occupied!" he screamed.

The man didn't know what to do. His stomach was feeling fine now, but his underwear were not. He knew he could not put them back on. He slowly lifted his legs from his pants and was now standing naked from the waist down in the bathroom that probably had a line outside of it by now. "I'll just fold them up and wrap them in some paper towels," he thought and then noticed the air hand dryer on the wall. No paper towels. He opened the trash can which was of course empty and he gently placed his feces covered Fruit of the Looms at the bottom of the pail. Another knock on the door. "Occupied!!" With no paper towels in sight, his only option for cleaning up was wet toilet paper. He went through a whole roll of it as he tried to clean his ass from the explosion. When it came time to flush the toilet, it stopped up. Thankfully, there was a plunger on hand so he plunged away the evidence and prepared to leave the bathroom. Minus his underwear of course.

We can only assume that the man rushed back to his table, threw a twenty dollar bill on it and fled the scene because he knew someone was going into the bathroom immediately following him. He ran down the street chafing his taint with his jeans and wondering if his underwear was the only thing that had poo on it. Meanwhile, a lowly waitress goes into the restroom to make sure there is a soap. She smells something in the trash can, open it and screams out, "Who the fuck does this? Asshole." That same waitress later emails The Bitchy Waiter to tell him what she dealt with at her job that day.

(Sorry for the repeat, but I have a long day ahead of me.) And how was your day?

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BodyModifiedRose said...

That is todays fucked up! aka TFU!

Some Sort of Fairy said...

Once, a guy pooped in the lobby of an administrative building where I was working. There were bathrooms around the corner.

Mary A. said...

I am making my husband read this. That is so him in 10 years.

Sam said...

I was a cocktail girl in a casino. It's amazing what people will do to keep playing those slots uninterrupted. The old people at least are wearing depends so you just SMELL it, but every once in awhile we had to inform the occassional drunk that both their pants and the seat they were on were drenched in urine/excrement. Once someone also pooped in a closet because they couldn't find the rest room. Several times people went into diabetic shock because they wouldn't get up and go take their insulin/eat. The just want look at them and be like "SERIOUSLY?!?!?"

Anonymous said...

This shit (ha!) happens too often. People eat things their bodies cannot handle and choose the restaurant bathroom as the venue for their intestinal apocalypse. I've seen crap on the floor, all over the seat, and on the tank. Yes, the tank! After seeing that I fully understood the term "explosive diarrhea." I am not unsympathetic, but most people know what upsets their stomachs. I have wicked gastritis. Anything with excessive amounts of garlic, oil, or butter sends my stomach into a burping, acid producing, vomiting frenzy. Soooo I do not eat those things because I have common sense and because I like my friends too much to puke in their cars. ( A side note...If Italian is on the menu, I'll pass up the invitation rather than be a dick and expect the chef to prepare a dish suited to my dietary needs. No oil, cream, garlic, or butter in an Italian restaurant? Please! Only a narcissistic douche would expect the kitchen staff to cater to her whims with such restrictions. )
If you take your 90 year old granny out for a rich meal after 10 years of bland nursing home food, ugly things may happen in her intestines. That is something I can overlook. Elderly people's bodies don't cooperate at times. It's the guy who inhales 2 pounds of wings and the chimichanga combo platter and washes it down with cheap draught beer who pisses me off. That would kill anyone's stomach. Eat that shit at home and foul your own bathroom! I like the dish and bus staff at my restaurant. They shouldn't have to clean up an overindulgent frat boy's diarrhea.

Practical Parsimony said...

I had a friend with this problem. Her dream was to live on the water so she could swim from the rowboat (sarcasm) she hoped to own. She would eat garbage or greasy food and then go on a long walk in the woods with her bf. Once on a hiking trail, she had to ditch her underwear and wash her pants before she could leave the primitive bathroom.

Even worse, when I went to her home, I could not sit on the shitty commode. I would make up and excuse to go home an pee. Then, I would go back. It was horrendous and she did not even clean it up, just sat on her own dried poop.

Anonymous said...

Practical Parsimony, your comment has me laughing to the point of tears! Fucking disgusting! I hope she never visits your home after swinging through the McDonalds drive-thru.

Mr. Chap said...

That is too damn funny. Why am I just now finding this site?


p.s. I once pooped my pants trying to force out a fart - last week.

SlumSlut said...

What is this thread? True Feces Confessions? Don't make me start telling cat-shit/puke stories. Because I have many, many of those.

(CAPTCHA = dopecone)

Cool Beans said...

That. Is. Gross. I feel bad for the waitress... but I also feel bad for the customer who had to leave his drawers in a trash bin!

I work in old people paradise, and I've seen Depends in the bathroom trash, but never plain old underwear!

Anonymous said...

and just what did you expect this guy to do with his underwear? flush them? not a good idea. wash them in the sink? another not so good idea. what would you suggest?

Anonymous said...

the author really had me laughing to myself when it comes to the point of Mr.Poopy Pants realizing he shat himself. Seems all to realistic.

Jaseki said...

I am laughing so GD hard now because my bf told me a story about how he shit his pants twice in one day! Bad day, but the story goes he did the usual (oh it's just a fart OH FUCK NO IT ISN'T!!) so he went to WalMart and bought new pants. And then it happened again - so back to WalMart he went and bought a SECOND pair of pants! And you thought YOUR day was shitty!

PS - Intestinal apocalypse - LMAO