OK since the last post ended on somewhat of a bummer note I thought I would regale you with an amusing tale. I have previous posted on my hatred of pooping at work or public restrooms in general however I have not exactly touched on my hatred of pooping anywhere besides my home. My home where I know exactly where extra toilet paper is located, I have disposable cleansing wipes (for a cheerier posterior) and plentiful bathroom reading material comprised of various junk mail and fashion magazines.

Pooping at a friends house never was much of an issue these people have seen a lot worse from me than a lingering smell in a bathroom however, much like a trauma victim events in my life have made me become significantly more precautious.

I present to you (not in order because I want to save the best story for last)

Case A:
I was at a party not too long ago where I ate some greasy food and I wasn't quite sure if the tummy pains would result in gas or something more productive so I headed for the powder room. Once there it because obvious that I made the right decision. In the middle of my process the handle giggled letting me know someone was waiting...dammit! I hurried myself along spritz the air freshener and left. A co-workers husband was on the other side of the door.

"Did you drop nay pom in there? Whhheewww eeeee!"

Seriously was that necessary. First of all it wasn't THAT bad and I used the air freshener and he didn't have to publicly announce it so loudly and obnoxiously so that the 15people in the other room heard it.

Case B:
I was at Cobie's house and was suffering from a case of I-haven't-poopedinalongtime-itis. To make a long story short the toilet clogged and he had no plunger. I had to walk to Walgreen's to remedy the situation. Of course in an efficiency apartment with friends word travels fast so my mishap did not go unnoticed.

Case C:
I was visiting Alice for the weekend. I had to go. Nothing spectacular but instead of going down the drain my poop stubbornly folding upon itself and wedged itself preventing already sub-par flushing action from working its magic. I remember staring at it...wishing it down. If I was going to take the fall for clogging someones toilet I at least wanted a poop worthy of pluming dysfunction. I scan the bathroom no plunger...seriously what the fuck is up with my friends not having a freaking plunger? I try the flush again...no dice although I effectively raised the water level in the tank knowing that if I tried to flush again I would have dirty water all over the floor. I would just have to suck it and take the humiliation. I washed my hands let out a sigh and entered the living room...

"Umm Alice? I kinda clogged your toilet, do you have a plunger?"

Alice: "hhhaaahhaa-hooo-hhooo snort snort.....no" That's really how she laughs

Me: Well what should I do?

Alice: I dunno push it down with something...heeheeehhh...snort

Me: Like what? I'm not just going to reach in there

Alice: Still snorting and now crossing her legs the urgent need to pee which always results from the hilarity that is at someone else expense (thereby increasing my problem). "Here use this."

Alice reached into her sink of dirty dishes and produced a butter knife with a baby blue handle. Soupy brown goo smeared the metal...peanut butter. I held the knife and looked at it. It was kinda gross half gooy half crusty and then realized that soon the knifes life would be over as it knew it. It would look back on its peanut butter encrusted time as the "good ol' days"

I went to the bathroom and knelt at the toilet and grimaced. Closed my eyes reached in and chopped up the poo like a Samaria. I then open my eyes looked at my work...and saw it was good (Genesis 2:11).

The next step was more complicated though...I stared at the knife and the bowl...how to I gracefully get rid of this thing. Like a airborne pathogen I couldn't release it from its diseased tank without a plan. Resting my wrist on the sink I used my left hand (which I had to cross over my person) to grab gobs of toilet paper....in retrospect much more than necessary but in emergencies survival takes hold and gluttony ensues. I folded it over several times before resting it on the edge of the seat. Then I made the transfer...swiftly but not too quickly as to prevent a splash hazard I placed the poopy-knife on the folded paper and flipped over the excess wrapping it up like a mummy.

Me: ALICE! I need a plastic bag...STAT
Alice: Whhooo-hheee---haaa...snort snort snort.

I drop the package in the bag roll it up and tie knots using the handles...flush the toilet...success. "I'm just going to go...throw this away." I say as I leave the bathroom passing Alice whom is on the floor in either having a grand maul seizure or a laughing fit (its hard to tell with her).