Tooping: unfortunate tales of texting while pooping

A few short weeks (or perhaps months?) ago I wrote a blog entry about dropping my phone stylus in the pot. It was an unfortunate little tale that turned out to be quite a giggle – at least to me. It was one of those cripplingly embarrassing things that happens about once a year to me… LOL – who am I kidding? This stuff seems to happen at least once a week to me! And last week it happened again!

Phone ringer off. Paper present. Lock secured. Seat present. Phone mute enabled. Phone stylus securely secured. Check, check, check. After last time, I’ve come to learn that satisfactory pooping takes preparation. Hmm, I’m sure there’s a snappy acronym in there somewhere…

Anyway, there I was. Calm, relaxed and prepared. Then somebody entered the stall next to me. Damn! Don’t you just hate it when that happens? It always turns into a modern-day O.K Corral showdown. Fifty paces at dawn: fifty paces after lunch - desk to restroom! Why does it always turn into a poop standoff? Nobody wants to be the guy to unload first.

These days (in the days of mobile phones) a standoff can take all day. OK, maybe that’s not correct – but it feels like all day. That’s if you’re not unfortunate enough to get a grunter next door – or worse – a talker! It takes just one Niagara-like episode followed by “oh mY GOD!?!” to cause any stall-neighbor to reverse-poop. Oddly enough, I’ve found discussion about gay porn to have the same effect on me?!?

But this time it wasn’t me! I didn’t drop my stylus or my phone. I wasn’t even tooping (texting-while-pooping)! I just sat there and listened to it all unfold in the stall next door.

First there was the call. He struggled to muffle an A-Team ring tone. In the process I heard the telltale tinny sound of the stylus hitting the floor. Then the phone… Off it went! It slid along the floor and under his door. I heard it all! I heard the frantic shuffle, the quick flush, the “I-gotta-get-out-here-before-somebody-sees-me” blind panic. I felt the heat from flushed cheeks through the stall wall. And then he was gone!

I burst out laughing. I had been there. I knew what he went through. The embarrassment! The shame! The comedy! Just when I was tiring of laughing at my own antics, I get rewarded with the stupidity of another! Isn’t life just brilliant that way?