(I have some deep-seeded public restroom issues.)
The Scene: My wife and I at a tapas restaurant sitting at the bar.
The Event: I felt a pain in my stomach that almost knocked me off my bar stool. Although loud music playing in the bar area, I think everyone in the place could hear the rumble inside my belly.
It was like a mini-gastric-earthquake ripping through my body. I dropped my pants and the second my pasty, white cheeks touched the porcelain seat, EXPLOSION!!! It was like a giant cow patty. Final, relief was mine…….. for the moment.
The Problem: I cleaned myself and reached to flush. HOLY, FUCKING, SHIT………… the toilet would not flush. MAYDAY, MAYDAY………the toilet would not flush.
I pulled the back lid off and started tinkering with the mechanical innards, but nothing worked. My cow patty was not going anywhere.
Decision time; I washed my hands quickly and carefully cracked the door to see if anyone was waiting in the hallway. The coast was clear so I walked briskly back to the bar and stood next to my wife at the bat.
“Wow, that sure was a long pee. Aren’t you going to sit down,” she said.
“Nope, it’s time to go. We have to leave now,” I said as I put down plenty of cash next to our plates.
As we were walking out the door, I looked back over my shoulder and noticed a few employees gathering in the bathroom where I left my destruction.