A Pooping Story

I am a public pooper.

However, I will try not to expose any innocent bystanders with offensive sounds and smells. I'm considerate like that. I normally try camoflauge techniques -- my favorite one is waiting for a neighbor to flush the toilet and I release all my contents at the same time. The flushing hides the sounds of splashing.

Today, luck was not on my side.

I felt that familiar urge sitting at my desk and casually walked quickly to the bathroom. Both end stalls were occupied leaving the center one for me. I sat and waited for my cue, but one of those little buggers pulled a fast one and made a run for the border. Damn! It was sneaky and evasive, making hardly a sound, but it left a trail of vapors. I, being so close to the finish line, was treated to the smell and I wondered if it penetrated the stall walls yet.

Before I could send silent prayers of condolense to my neighbors, I heard the shuffle of feet to my left. The warning bell indicated that the flush was soon to follow. I was in position -- feet firmly planted, suit jacket hoisted high up my back to avoid any backsplash. When the FOOSH of the toilet started, I relaxed my body and let gravity take over. But to my horror, a fart escaped! I was made!

My eyes widened and I was thankful that no one knew that it was me crouched in my semi-private world. Then the silent giggles started. My shoulders started to shake and I had to hold my mardi gras beads to keep them from tinkeling and giving me away. By this time the flushing had finished and I lost my opportunity to mask my offense.

I took a quick look under the stall to my right and recognized the shoes as those belonging to my co-worker. I decided I couldn't take the chance of another escaping noise or smell, so I waited it out.

Finally, as the bathroom door slowly closed on her exit I was alone to do what was required of me. Five pounds lighter, I washed my hands, fluffed my hair and re-entered the work floor carrying the secret of the Phantom Fart.