Did I Flush The Bowl?

I just went to the restroom at my office, and had gone to go into the last stall, which is the handicapped accessible high seated thrown which I enjoy doing my business on. When I opened the door I saw that the bowl was clogged. This is the second time this week that I’ve found my favorite bowl clogged. Right now I am under the assumption that one of the new men on the floor is using way too much tp, or it is someone who on their way out and hates the company and is just clogging to bowl on purpose.

Anyways, I was about to go into the middle stall, but decided to go for the first stall instead. I just had a bad feeling about that middle one. I did my business, and was about to wrap things up when I heard someone scamper into the restroom, go into the last stall, flush the clogged bowl, and then run into the middle stall. I proceeded to wrap up, and pull up my pants while the guy was setting up in the middle stall that was right next to the one I was in. At the same time yet another man enters this restroom, went for the last stall, and he saw it was clogged. Instead of leaving he did the “I’ll just pee at the urinal” thing and hope my inside don’t pop out my butt.

All this commotion around me while I was zipping and putting together my belt left my head spinning. I left the stall, walked fast past the urinals as to not been seen leaving the stalls – which if spotted would have meant that I was caught red handed having just taken a dump. As I washed my hands my mind suddenly thought, “Did I flush?” And for the life of me I couldn’t remember if I had flushed. I hope I did flush, but I wasn’t sure.

I thought that maybe I should go back and check, but couldn’t actually do that because then I would definitely have been caught having just taken a dump, or worse having just checked the bowl to which I just too a dump in, or even worse I could have walked into the guy that was at the urinal about to enter the stall to which I may or may not have flushed. In either case this most likely would have resulted in some sort of small talk, which I did not wish to get into after I just took a dump, and would have led me to a life of embarrassment, forever.

14 Inches Of Poo

I just took a dump, and I swear it must have been about 14 inches or so long, at least! It was broken up into two seperate pieces, but from what I can see, 14 inches plus is a safe bet.

I had been sitting at my desk, feeling the urge that I might have to go before I left at 1pm. I pondered if it was necessary, and thought about actually having to go at the Hunter College bathrooms and it gave me the notion that I should just try, as my mother used to tell me when I was little and going to go out somewhere that did not have an ideal restroom.

While I was awaiting word that my other blog had successfully been pulblished I farted. It was a long gassy one, and I was able to feel something go up my buttcrack and out my pants. What was that?, I thought. Concerned I may have just shit myself I sat, frozen. I then proceeded to put my left index finger down my crack to see if I was able to draw out a smell, no smell. I then turned my light blue shirt around to see if poop flew up and out of my pants onto my nice light blue shirt. I then deemed it safe to walk to the Men's room. I went, put the cool liner down, sat, and then WHAM! All of a sudden this huge turd decided to pop out of my butt.

I sure wasn't expecting such a big surprise, but was fascinated by its length. I did the old spread hand technique to get the size of turds. While it might not be fully accurate, it is way better than going on a "I need to borrow your ruler" run about the 24th floor.

The restrooms also has a new automatic papertowel dispensor, which doesn't seem to want to give adequate amounts of towels to dry my hands, so I need to keep waving my hands liek a cool in the bathroom in order to fool it into giving out more paper towels.

Such a productive way to spend time.