Molt Be Blog

This message from CA from CA now in TX:

Speaking of poop, whilst I was reading your website archive about moving to your own cubicle and being that much closer to the bathroom, I heard my anal glands singing that familiar tune. So I decided to obey them and walk the (ohhh) 40 feet to our local shit deposit. On the walk there I thought about how many thousands of pounds of poop are delivered there a day, month, year, infiniti and beyond. It's comparable to trying to imagine the size of outer space. Anyhoo, I walked into the bathroom and went through my normal routine of bending over to look underneath the stalls to make sure the coast was clear. Does anyone like to poop next to another person pooping? Call me a paranoid pooer but I like to shit in silence with no distractions. As I was bending over looking underneath the stalls, it just so happened that the president of our company walked in witnessing my daily routine. To my utter surprise and embarrassment I pretended like I was tying my shoe, except I'm wearing slip-on shoes. So I quickly moved on to pretending like I dropped something. I straightened up looked in my hand and put whatever it was I had "dropped" into my pocket and said to the president, "Found it." Do you think he knew what I was doing? Maybe he does it, too. Maybe the whole corporate world does it.

Now, I was like a cornered cat with nowhere to go, the president between me and the exit and the stalls in front of me. I slowly walked towards the stalls while subtly peaking over my shoulder to see if he was following me. I entered the stall and nervously awaited the sounds of him entering the stall next to me. He did! All I could do now was to go through the motions of pulling my pants down and sitting. As he did the same, I pinched and clenched but once the safety is off and I'm in the sitting position there's no holding back. Just like two birds singing next to each other, two cars revving there engines alongside another, or two bulldozers bulldozing in the summer sun, we pooped together. There was only one thing that could make this experience worse for me... yes, he started a conversation.

"How's work going for you, Chris?"
"Pretty good, still learning the ropes."
"Let's do, hmmmph, lunch some time." (plop)
"Okay."
"How's today for ya?" (toilet paper unraveling)
"Sure."
"I'll shoot you an email." (wipe, wipe)
(flush)

That was it. A lunch appointment made over a group poop.