This is going to be a pretty “crappy” post… Hehe.
See, most guys are all fart jokes and poopy humor right? Or is that just mostly military guys? Anyway, women are opposite. Mostly, until we’re like old as dirt and smell like mothballs and baby powder anyway, we don’t want you to know we fart. Or have to poop. We don’t even want other women to hear us (unless we’re drunk. Whole new ballgame right). So, it’s an issue when the need comes and you work in a big office. It’s even more irritating as a teacher of adults. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t want to have to use a stall next to my students I was just teaching, especially if I have to number 2. And then see them as I come out to wash my hands. Huuuuumiliating!
So it becomes a search for the empty bathroom for ninja pooping. The bathroom that’s a little out-of-the-way, so usually it’s empty when you sneak in to do the business. Half the time the light is off when you walk in, which makes me a little paranoid that I’ll find a dead student sitting on the potty. Morbid, and weird, but you should know by now that there is no way I can control the wtf-ness that runs through my brain. I just tell my brain that I’ll sit back and let it go crazy… Because it’s just easier than arguing with that heffa.
Anyway, for the time I’ve worked in my office, when I’ve got the BG’s (bubble guts), I can always take care of my business quietly and with skill so no one knows that dimensionthe5th is having a craptastic day. But all things fall apart, and of course I had the most traumatic experience on a day where I shouldn’t have had dairy (lactose intolerant), shouldn’t have taken my fiber pills, and just should have held it in or something. But none of those things happened, and as I walked in, one of the nicest most well-known janitors was coming in to put up supplies. I said frack it because I think she’s going to be right in and out. But then, the senior enlisted servicemember, the boss of bosses walks in. I know because she greets the janitor. And they are talking happily… Until I can hold it back no more! I swear its like a sewage trumpet orchestra. It sounds like one of those situations where you’re not sure if someone had just pooped out their intestines, their soul, and maybe their brain too. Oh god. All I could do was sit there. No way in Hello was I leaving out that stall to see them looking at me like “You nasty mofo!”
So I waited until they left. And ninja-ed back to my office, hoping that somehow if I wasn’t seen for a few days the loud pooper in the bathroom would seep from their minds and be flushed. I’ve also made sure to start searching for a new “perfect” bathroom.
Of course, maybe it’s just all in my mind and no other woman goes through ninja pooping.
dimensionthe5th 