The Shitter & The Cell Phone

[McClain]

This is for Sspad. It's been posted before, like, 18 times.

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I had just finished the chocolate shake that I purchased from the Food Court when my stomach began to rumble. I could tell by the barrage of baritone blasts from my gut that something wasn't right.

I had some serious turtlehead poking out so I made haste to the bathroom. Please note that I'm a fast shitter. I can't get through the first ingredient on a bottle of shampoo before it's time to wipe and flush. I'm that fast.

"Methylchloroisothi..." FLUSH.

That's what made this particular event so timely. So perfect. For some bizarre reason my crap wouldn't come out. This afforded me time to sit on the toilet and think. And as I waited for my innards to squeeze outwards, someone occupied the stall next to me. AWKWARD! I hate that. I hate that I can see their feet. Who wears Velcro shoes? I hate how they make funny noises and fart and sniff and cough. JUST SHUT UP AND POOP!

So I'm beginning to harbor some angst for the asshole next to me. Even though I'm in an enclosed stall and you're in an enclosed stall, you are somehow violating my personal space. I think I need a 10-foot No Human Radius when I'm dropping my load.

So I'm reading some of the hate carved in to the stall walls to help ease along the process. My bowels had begun to loosen so I felt the Stinky Kids easing their way closer to the pool. Then I hear a cell phone ring. Not me. I don't have a phone.

OMG it's the guy next to me. AND HE ANSWERED IT!

"Hello? Oh, hey babe... Nothing... Just hanging out at the mall."

HE WAS HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH HIS GF WHILE HE WAS TAKING A SHIT! And he was trying to play it off as if he were walking around in the mall. For all she knew, he was in Waldenbooks thumbing through some smarmy b&w photograph magazine. If she only knew that he was taking a stinky shit!

It was at this time, in this public bathroom stall, in a moment of divine timing and alignment of fate that I knew what must be done.

I dropped my load. I dropped my load really hard and it was fuckin' LOUD! It echoed and engaged the acoustics of bathroom. The tile magnified and accentuated each flatulation. It was a medley of anal explosions the likes of which this particular public toilet had never seen.

Then I heard the asshole next to me.

"What? No... I don't know what that was... No I'm not! That's sick!"

I wasn't about to let up. A few more farts passed, releasing the sound of a Mach 1 cloud of gas from my ass. The hollow porcelain amplified the sonance. The music was briefly followed by more shits. And while I was doing this, trying to hold in my laughter, the guy next to me kept saying how he was, "... in the mall. I'm not in the bathroom!"

"I'll call you back later. Gotta' go."

OMG SHE KNEW! I blew his cover! YESSS! But now what? What will he do? It was obvious how my timely cannonades were intentional. HE KNEW!

I saw his hands reach down to pull up the plaid shorts wrapped around his ankles. But he paused. His hands were still, gripping the waste line of his shorts. My #2 had ceased and there was nothing but silence now. He then reached his hand underneath my stall. It was slow motion. His clenched fist loosened and changed to form The Finger. He held it there for a good 5 seconds.

He hurriedly pulled up his pants (did he poop or not?) kicked open the door and fled the bathroom to the mall.

As soon as I heard the door close I began to laugh. I finished my business and made my way back in the mall. That jerk got what he deserved and I was happy. I stayed at the mall another hour peering at the ground level for someone wearing Velcro shoes.