Chocolate Gum Drops

Double post night.

I have often written about how cool the people are that I work with. One of those, who gets very little "air time", is DW. DW and I seem to have a connection when it comes to weird humor.

Each day this week has been progressively harder than the previous (at work). Difficult meeting after difficult meeting. Goof balls that seem to enjoy ticking me off. Blah blah blah.

Anyway, as I got ready to leave today, DW comes over to my desk and tells me that there is a blog post waiting for me in the bathroom. With a build up like that, how could I not investigate?

So, I strolled into the restroom, and took a peek in the stall DW had described as the location. And, what did I see????

There, right in front of me, was a toilet with three little mounds of poo on the seat! Holy %$#@. Not skid marks....but small piles.

In a CSI moment, I took note of the fact that none of them had trails, which would seem to indicate that they were dropped directly onto the seat...no lateral force. Possibly some low hanging fruit fell from the tree.

I immediately started laughing, which I think perked the person's interest in the stall next to the crime scene. As I washed my hands (which I do whenever I enter a restroom) he came out staring at me.

As I walked back to my desk, I lost it again about 10 feet from DW's desk...which triggered him to start laughing. We shared with J-Girl, who did not seem to understand the level of our enjoyment...even after I drew a picture of it on DW's whiteboard.

Sometimes, work is fun.

Prophetic Potty Posts I

In preparation of Aunt Potty coming to this blog, I am reposting some of my most requested potty stories. These are the stories that helped make me a legend on the potty speaking circuit.

"Can You Spare a Square?" - E. Benes

On my own personal speaking circuit (cubes and break areas at work, local fast food establishments, and friends' homes) this is one of my most requested stories. It is all true. None of the names have been changed, since the only chucklehead in the story is me.

One morning I needed to make a trip to a town 2 hours away to "take care of some business"(foreshadowing). Before departing, I had a hearty breakfast consisting of 2 bowls of raisin BRAN, mostly because its the only cereal my kids shy away from.

After breakfast, I departed. All was going well until I was about 30 minutes from my destination. It was then that I had a signal that the bran was going to cause me issues. However, at that point, a simple opening of my car's sunroof alleviated the problem. Actually, it alleviated the result of the problem....but to me, that was the problem.

Then, with about 5 minutes until I reached my destination, I got THE GURGLE. This is what I term the human equivalent to football's 2 minute warning. Deep within my digestive track, I had a battle waging....and casualties were forthcoming. Being experienced in this type of situation, I immediately found a local establishment for assistance....in this case, a Burger King.

Upon entering said BK's restroom, I immediately occupied the only stall....and answered the call...just in the nick of time. After about 5 minutes of answering the call, I look over and see something that made my heart sink......a single cardboard tube in the TP dispenser. In my haste I had bypassed one of my fundamental guidelines when entering a restroom....verify the presence of tp. My senses (sort of like Spiderman's spidey senses) told me that TP would not be optional for this visit. Since there was only one stall, my alternatives seemed limited.

My first idea was that I could sneak out of the stall and grab some paper towel. So, I waited until the restoom was empty. Then, pulling my undies and shorts up a little, waddled out of the stall. Unfortunately, in an environmentally friendly decision, BK had decided to only have hot air hand dryers.....damn. Upon hearing footsteps outside the bathroom, I waddled back to my hideout and started rethinking.

I decided this situation would require innovation.....so here were my options as I saw them:

• I could use my undies as tp, then leave them in the trash. Decided that wouldn't work. I was wearing shorts that day, and I didn't think going free was a good idea.
• I could use the empty cardboard roll. In a MacGyverish moment, I decided to try and unroll the cardboard roll and use it. Sure, it would be abrasive....but the pioneers did it this way, didn't they? After unrolling the spool a little I decided this would not be ample material for a cleaning.
• If I could find one square, I could use a survivalist technique shared with me by a coworker. This involves the piercing of the single square with your finger, and the aggressive use of that finger for clean-up, using the surrounding square for disaster recovery afterwards. I decided I would use this option only if the store was on fire.....a big fire.

Finally, after all others in the restroom had cleared out, I decided to make one last trip out to see if I had missed any options outside of the stall. Up came the shorts...and out I waddled. At this point, my feet were falling asleep, so walking/waddling was even more difficult.

Sure enough, I dug through the trash can far enough to find some paper. Some of it was hamburger wrappers....why they were in there I didn't want to know. Back I went into my fortress of solitude....and cleanup ensued.

After spending a solid 5 minutes washing my hands up to my elbows, I stormed up to the counter and informed them that the men's restroom was in need of some attention.

To this day, even in my most dire moments, I always check to make sure there are squares to spare. Take it from a survivor, it only takes a couple seconds....but it is well worth it.