Talking crap | Mental Poo

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Talking crap

For the love of all that is holy, stop talking to me in the bathroom.

There is an unwritten Commandment (probably the eleventh, or thereabouts) that specifically states:

“Thou shalt not hold casual conversation in thy men’s room”

I don’t know how this was left out of the teachings of Moses. Unless, of course, he was one of those guys who like to chat it up with other prophets while going poo.

That’s not me.

When I’m on the john, I have no interest in answering:

“How you’re doing?”, or…
“How are you today?”, or…
“Whatcha got there?”


If someone is zipping up or washing their hands, then a nice, “Hey” is perfectly acceptable. If they’re done, or heading out/in, then this is fine in the eyes of bathroom etiquette.

The line is specifically crossed, however, in the following instances:

1)The victim is actively peeing at a urinal – maybe launching some pressure farts - while facing the wall straight ahead…with obviously no interest in talking to anyone.
2)The culprit recognizes the victim’s sneakers under the stall when he/she walks in and decides to chat it up.
3)Same as number 2, where the sneakers are recognized, but the chatting culprit is also in the next stall…going poo too.

Why would anyone – ANYONE – think that someone wants to actually talk while they’re going poo? Who actually WANTS to talk to that person? Leave them alone. Let them squash in peace.

I have a friend who does this on purpose, because he KNOWS it freaks me out. Drives me crazy. And I know it’s coming, too. I hear him grunt, or cough as he walks in….and then the next stall door opens. I wince…I hold my breath…because I KNOW..I KNOW…it’s on it’s way. Then…here it comes….

“How’s it going over there?”

Really? Seriously?

"How’s it going?”

Let me think. It’s going OUT…that’s how it’s going. I’ve actually got a surface breaker over here. My bum is bleeding and it burns a little from the Jalapenos in the salad I had. I’m also trying to figure out how I managed to poo the color fuscia. Hey...can I borrow your camera phone?

…just leave me alone…please.

One of my friends, back in the day, had the perfect response. To this day, I will not – NOT – engage in any conversation or bathroom shenanigans (that’s right…shenanigans) unless provoked.

Back in the day, my buddy was sitting in the stall at work, taking his daily dump. Based on the sneakers in my line of sight under the stall (see item #2 above), I knew it was him. I soaked some paper towels, balled them up, and started lobbing them over the stall walls. I could hear them splat as they hit him.

There was silence for a moment, as I stopped and relished in my hilarious act. Then…it happened…with one small motion, my bathroom etiquette was changed forever. his hand poked out from beneath the stall, toilet paper in hand, and he casually questioned…

“Hey..this is a funny color, isn’t it?”



DVeau said...

-"Fuscia", eh?
...I think you need to turn in your man card for even knowing that that's a color.

Moooooog35 said...

Forget about knowing it's a color. I should have it revoked for knowing how to spell it without looking it up.

Anonymous said...

Fuscia? Must have had Fruit Loops. Oh, no, that is green. Smells like shit in here.

Related Posts with Thumbnails