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Tournament time + March Madness On Demand for the iPhone = great bathroom trips at work.

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Topic: True Story: Sorry to the Manager of the Home Depot Store in...

Dusty_Dawg_Ag
posted 12:34a, 03/20/11


Victoria. I would have made it but some jerk had a rod of rebar across the isle near the restrooms. Okay, I regress, let me start this from the beginning.

My wife, my 14 yr old son, and 17 yr old daughter traveled to Houston for the Livestock Show. My kids showed their chickens and we caught the Alan Jackson concert after the rodeo. Spent the night in Sugarland and being the good son that I am, we stopped in Edna to visit my mother on the return trip back to Tynan.

After a nice visit, we took my Mom out to eat at a little mexican food place in Edna that used to be a Dairy Queen. I ordered the shrimp plate special complete with a salad and baked potato; heretofor properly named and referred to as Mistake#1 for not ordering mexican food at a mexican food place.
After the meal, I stood up to pay the check and a strange yet familiar sensation presented itself from my digestive tract.

I quickly made my way to the old Dairy Queen restroom located at the rear of this fine eating establishment. I checked to make sure an adequate supply of sandpaper disguised as toliet paper was nesteled on the spotless floor. I settled in on the ever so clean toliet and gave birth to an 8 lb. log that would have made any real man extremely proud. I gently wiped with the sandpaper and stood to admire "The King" which was so large it wasn't even submerged. Suddenly, the automatic flusher engaged and the water level in the toliet started rising as "The King" refused to budge (Seriously, an auto flusher at this fine establishment?). I quickly fastened my jeans and made my escape just as I heard the water overflowing onto the floor. Whew, crisis avoided, or so I thought. After washing my hands in a gallon of alcohol gel my wife keeps on standby in her purse, we said our goodbye's and we were back on the road.

As we passed the Victoria airporrt, a horrific noise and sensation erupted from deep within my bowels. My wife asked if I was okay and I replied with a quick "Yes, I'm fine" knowing the opposite to be true. I picked the speed up from 70 to 75 as I thought of the different businesses with public restrooms on this side of Victoria. I turned onto Loop 463 and then it hit me, my stomach made a complete backwards flip causing my intestines to cramp with such force that my rectum immediately pinched in the extra tight mode. My foot instinctively pressed harder upon the gas pedal with every cramp and contraction.

There it was, like a lighthouse to a ship on a stormy night, a beacon of hope in the form of a Home Depot upon my right. I exited on two wheels and parked quickly near the contractor's entrance. I jumped from the vehicle and resembled the AFLAC duck as I waddled in keeping my butt cheeks pressed firmly together. A quick scan of the interior ceiling disclosed that the restrooms were hidden on the last isle in the concrete/mortar section.

Another cramp hits like a sledgehammer to my gut. Should I stop and fight the cramp, or pick up my waddle pace? Mistake #2, waddling faster toward the last isle. I could feel the pressure building with such intensity I felt as if I would blow at any second.

I rounded the corner and spotted the restrooms on my right. Faster I waddled with my eyes set squarely upon my room of certain relief. Suddenly a man wearing a burnt orange tu sip shirt pulled a rebar rod and placed it acroos the isle at about 2 feet high. Stop and fight the wave of cramps or hurdle the rebar and hit that restroom? Mistake #3, I hurdled the rebar. As I did, the twisting action on my rectum told my colon it's time.

I saw the large stall was open just as my colon answered my rectum in the affirmative. I tried to run but had this explosion of crap spewing from my rear like a volcano erupting on National Geographic. I tried to pull my shorts down as the eruption continued. My shorts full of crap and my azz violently projecting liquid fecal matter upon the wall and commode. The eruption subsided momentarily as I assessed the situation while my azz hovered over the commode. Molten crap upon three walls and all over the throne.

I pulled my underwear and shorts off while in the hovering position. I tried to wipe the seat of the commode with my shorts but there was so much dripping crap everywhere that I felt a need to retreat into the adjoing stall. As I rounded the stall wall, another eruption occurred. This time spraying all over the floor and stall #2 just as I slid onto the seat. The eruption continued with such force that a backsplash effect took place ensuring that my entire azz cheeks were covered with another layer of liquid sludge.

I grunt and moan with every wave as a man and small boy enter the killing zone. The boy shrieked at the sight before him as his Dad yelled "No son, get back." I could hear the sound of feet running as another wave hit, this one with such force that it backsplashed out of the commode and down my legs. Finally, the eruption subsided and I began the process of trying clean up with toilet paper. Wiping my hands as best I could, I reached for my shorts that were still in stall #1. I retrieved my cell phone to call my wife.

Now guys, I pay $270.00+ a month for 5 lines and phones with so many bells and whistles I can talk to aliens on Mars. I call the wife, no answer so I leave a voice mail. I wait about 30 seconds and try again, no answer. I text her and tell her to answer the friggin phone to no avail. Fifteen minutes of calls and no answers pass when I hear footsteps again. "Dad, are you alright?" "No son, I am quite sure I am not alright, find your mother and tell her to call me."

Five minutes pass, crap still dripping everywhere, the wife finally calls. "Honey, are you alright?" "No, I am a 48 yr old man that just crapped himself and ruined two stalls in here, does that sound like I'm alright?" "Send underwear, shorts, and alcohol gel in here with my son." Ten minutes pass and another un-suspecting man enters and quickly retreats from the killing zone.

Finally my son rescues me. He passes me the new clothes and the smallest bottle of alcohol gel ever made. I ask him for wet papertowels and begin the tedious process of trying to clean up. I pull off my Sperry's which have feces inside and out. I clean them, my legs and feet. Then my arms, and lastly my azz. I can hear my 14 yr old son trying not to giggle. I finally managed to clean myself well enough to put on the clothes and make my way carefully to the sink.

The aroma was horrific as I hurriedly left the killing zone. Of course, the t-sip was no where to be found. So, again, I express my sincere apologies to the manager of the Home Depot in Victoria.

Things I forgot to say:



I am sorry to the kid/man that was the lowest on the totem pole at Home Depot, I should have left a tip or something.

The shorts my wife sent in for the rescue was a pair of elastic waisted boxer sleep shorts with Yosimite Sam graphics.

My wife actually asked if we were still going to go prom dress shopping at the mall for the 17 yr old daughter.

After getting home and taking a long hot shower and getting a good nights sleep, I feel much better. I had no more eruptions and feel several pounds lighter!

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