Destroying a toilet

(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.

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