Bathroom Humor

What better way to start, or end depending on time zone, your Friday with a little bathroom humor.  It’s not what you think, though.

Yesterday I was in the men’s room at work.  I was sitting in the far stall, ahh, resting my eyes, when someone came in.  I knew it was a young man from the voice saying “Wow, cold in here”, then seeing little sneakers enter the stall next to mine.  Now, before you scream OMG TMI, please, it’s all part of life, and it was funny.  He likely didn’t know I was in the bathroom with him, as the far stall is a good bit from the door and 1st stall.  And I was quiet, just sort of, resting. REALLY.

So the young man begins to .. uhh .. go number 1.  I use that terminology for those of you who are a tad squeamish.  The young man doesn’t flush after he was done.  He doesn’t move actually.  What he does do, nearly had me going number 1, in my pants.  He (probably) places his tongue against the roof of his mouth and emits a loud, resonating POP sound.

The acoustics in the mens room must have been appealing to the youth.  I am sure the room’s size, and tile walls and floors, caused his pop to echo nicely to the delight of a (I found out later) 9  year old boy.  So, standing there, still not having flushed, he pops again.  And again.  He then double pops.  He pops 5 times in quick succession.  I am sitting there, trying to stifle my laughter.  He does it over and over, maybe 15 times, each time trying to go louder and louder.  I finally decide to let the young chap know he has an audience, and cough and flush the commode.  What happened next was hysterical.

He shouts “Oh SNAP” and slams the bathroom stall door open, bolts out of the mens room, and yells MOM!  I sincerely hope the young man zipped up before running for his life.  I washed my hands and went back to my office, laughing the whole way.  It turns out a co-worker brought her son in, and he was sitting right outside my office at an open cube, head down, flush from embarrassment.  I haven’t told his mom yet about the event.  I’ll save that for later, so she can tell the story all weekend long.  After all, isn’t it a mother’s job to embarrass her son constantly.

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