I am currently in the process of moving house and for my 110th poo of the year I christened the new toilet. I had anticipated that my next blog post would be about this event as it is a significant event for my bowels. I had planned on posting a glowing review of the toilet's flush which can handle a good load and I had also planned on posting about my excitement about the fact that the old dear who lived in the house before me had a grab rail installed next to the toilet (did she have mobility issues or was she a fellow poo enthusiast who liked to really force one out). This is what I had planned on doing, however what occurred later that day was a tale of trauma and distress.
After lunch, the other (lesser) half and I went shopping for household essentials. After an hour or so of filling the shopping basket with non-essentials and useless tat we popped into the morrissons next door. I felt the usual urge and I thought I'd much prefer a dump than a trip round the supermarket so I ducked away and into the cubicles. If I had my time again, this is one of the decisions I would change. The toilet was a bit on the grotty side but overall an ok place to lay my faeces. I settled down with my phone and tried to get a new high score on crossy road whilst leisurely laying a cable.
Some time later I was done and I reached across to take a ticket only to find that there was only a single sheet of toilet paper left. My face dropped and I started to panic as I tried to think of elaborate ways to wipe my arse using the contents of the cubicle, it's time like this I wish I was in the A-team. In the end I made very economical use of the one remaining sheet of toilet paper using the wipe-fold-wipe-fold method with the sheet eventually being folded into eighths. I feel someone must be looking down on me because thankfully this was enough completely clean the area. The stress, however, was not over there.
As I finished wiping, I glanced around the cubicle and I saw a small poo sitting in the corner by the wall, obviously left there by the previous tenant. I was initially grossed out but the smell was not overpowering and i'm not squeamish so overall it didn't bother me because it was just sat there out of the way minding it's own business. What was bothering me however, was the fact that the toilet was getting quite busy and I knew the second I stepped out the cubicle, someone would want to go in and they might think it was me. I summoned some courage, flushed and left.
Leaving the cubicle I saw someone notice me and head straight for the cubicle, I walked in a way that would block his route just to buy me an extra second "sorry" I said as he had to walk round me. I dashed to the sink and looked back nervously, he was in the cubicle but standing up with his back to the small package left in the corner. Result! he hadn't seen the rouge turd lying there, as I went to turn my head back to the sink I caught his eye, he looked at me with a disgusted look on his face "did something die in here" he remarked. Normally I take pride in such a comment but I couldn't take the credit for this one. If I was an honest man I would have replied "Oh that wasn't me, that's because there's a shit on the floor behind you" instead I nervously laughed and bolted out of the toilets.
I returned to my female unit who was browsing away and pathetically whimpered that I wanted to leave and wanted to leave now. I explained that I had a distressing time but we were not allowed to leave. After a while I was sufficiently cheered up by doing multiple power slides with the trolley. Many of you might think that I have learnt a lesson about pooing in a public toilet but I have not, I will continue to lay cables whenever and wherever the need strikes.
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