|
|
|
| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
|
|
|
October /
November 2006 Contest Results |
Hope
Everything Comes Out All Right
By Tyler W.,
Minnesota
As I
cherished my usual 9 a.m. business in the corner stall, my thoughts
drifted from matter to matter. I believe I was somewhere between
estimating the number of screws it took to assemble the two-stall
configuration enclosing me and wondering who in the world would want to
remove them--don't tell me you haven't noticed those odd-headed screws
that must require some sort of peculiar tool to remove--when the door to
the lavatory thumped open, snapping my head out of the clouds.
Since I didn't recognize the footfalls, it was not one of my co-workers
penetrating my privacy. After working in a small office for a period,
one gets to know the restroom regulars. Out of habit, I gave my
""you-are-not-alone-in-here"" cough (patent pending) to let this gent
entering my comfort zone know I was within earshot. I listened to see if
he caught the signal.
It was my lucky day. He set up shop at one of the urinals; poop neighbor
averted! Is it just me or do other folks detest having a poop neighbor
(especially a noisy one)?
That reminds me of a freshman-year experience. My roommate’s family was
visiting and, in front of me, he asked his brother, “Do you have to
poop?”
“Yes, I do!” his brother exclaimed.
“Let’s go!” my roommate squealed as they headed to the john. Apparently,
they enjoyed catching up in contiguous stalls via their Mother Nature
call.
WHAT?!?! Are you kidding me?!? I would’ve killed him if he asked ME
that! Headline: “Roommate Slain Over Restroom Proposition”
To review, I'm on the pot and someone, let’s call him ""Pete,"" is at
the urinal. What happens next? Some might think ‘who cares, let it rip,’
but I am of quite the opposite opinion. The facets of this situation
need to interact properly to avoid any embarrassment or discomfort for
both parties. Bottom line: the next few cards must be played properly or
the game is over—without a Royal Flush, I might add.
As the gent unzipped, I wondered if he heard the cough. Does he think
he's alone? Does he even care? The answer came and it wasn’t good,
especially since I entered a holding pattern as he walked in. His deep
voice filled the tiny restroom as he broke into song.
""Oooh Canada, my home sweeeet home . . . hmmmm,"" he sang and hummed. I
couldn't help but shake my head and smile knowing he thought he was
alone. Granted, he may not have cared, but come on, would he have
actually started singing if I were, say, parked at the adjacent urinal?
Not unless he likes knuckle sandwiches.
At this point, I wanted to cough again but needed the right time. His
humming persisted and, oddly enough, I could even tell he had his head
leaned back, thoroughly enjoying the relief. As his pressure waned, mine
only grew: when should I cough?
Too late, he farted. Now there was NO WAY I could give up my location! I
bit my lip to prevent a laugh and remained in my holding pattern.
Perhaps I was a bit neurotic but I was simply stalling.
While Pete tinkled, my mind shifted to some ""what-ifs,"" should I be
discovered: what if I happened to leave the stall as he zipped? Do I say
something? Do I make eye contact? If so, how do I not smile, thus
letting him know I heard EVERYTHING? What if we were slated to attend
the same meeting in fifteen minutes? The thought of the initial
conversation sickens me:
""Hi Pete, nice day, aye?"" I ask, tossing in the Canadian lingo with a
slight head nod, small grin, and wink.
""Sure is,"" he says as he shakes my hand, ""everything come out
alright?""
I don't want to meet Pete nor do I care to have Pete connect my face
with the restroom aroma or depth-charge splashes. No siree, Pete, I am
NOT going there!
Pete performed his urinal ritual quickly, washed up and left. I was much
relieved to again be alone. As I took Mother Nature off 'hold,' the
thought occurred to me: this could all have been avoided had Pete
followed two simple, yet unwritten, men's room etiquette rules: 1)
ALWAYS glance at the stall doors to see if you're alone; 2) listen.
Following these straightforward rules can only save one from potential
restroom havoc and ensure that everything does come out all right in the
end.
.
|
