Out of Pod Experience

Inexplicably the timing of my bowel movements has changed. It changed to mid-morning earlier this week and in fact I just finished today's session about 5 minutes ago. I write this now as I want the experience to be fresh in my mind as I attempt to put words to the revealing, horrifying situation that I just went through.

Immediately after finishing my morning conference call - I knew I had battled the urge for too long. As soon as I hung up I gathered myself and headed to the rest room. As always I hoped for a fresh rest room, free from co-workers or other users. I opened the door and there was one person busily washing their hands, I had just enough space and time to steal into the stall unseen. Luckily the wheel chair accessible stall was available and I made use of it as there were no wheel chairs in sight.

I settled down and was running through the usual bathroom thoughts, what I had to do when I got back to my desk. Would the hand washer be gone quickly? Would any other co-workers come to disturb my peace?

The aforementioned handwasher left and I felt myself relax. The tension that you didn't know was there was dissapating. Alas, my peace was not to last. An interloper soon entered the washroom and settled in the inferior, standard stall next to my comparatively luxurious accomodations. I smirked a wry smile knowing that I had won at least one battle on this day.

Immediately my mind turned to my pooping partners pooping habits. Was he a slow pooper or fast? Could I find any evidence? Was there the tell-tale rustle of a newspaper indicating the quiet wisdom of a seasoned pooper who is able to sneak in the local section of the paper unseen from others? I doubted it as my experience had shown me that few had the patience and risk tolerance to do so anymore. Shaking my head at the direction of society I then listened for the click of the QWERTY on a blackberry. No such sound to be heard.

Evidence was quickly pointing towards my pooping partner being an efficient chap. My personal workplace pooping ethics involves not making eye contact with any other bathroom user after I am done extricating my bowels. I will go, and have gone to, great lengths to make sure that the game remains as annonymous as possible. In my personal workplace pooping rules - one does not exit the stall at the same time as another pooper. It avoids all sorts of awkward glances & horrifying apres poop small talk. I believe in preserving the quiet solitude of the pooping process. This must be observed if at all possible. Over the years I have noticed workplace society taking less pains to hiding their at work defacation from others and again, I worry about my childrens future in a society heading in this direction. I will and have remained stoic in my quiet quest to preserve the work place pooping peace.

As these thoughts were cycling through my mind, as is my, and I suspect others, inclination I glanced under the stall partition at where my pooping partners shoes should be and I will never forget what I saw next.

SOCKS! My pooping partner hadn't even bothered to put shoes on to go to the mens washroom! Horrified, my mind began to process this information. In order to gain entry to my preferred pooping station one must not just walk down an aisle in the office. You need to actually leave the office and, while carpeted, the next 60 feet to the washroom is common area like one would see in a retail environment. There is no doubt this is a shoes-only area.

Not only had my pooping partner flaunted this workplace convention they had also chosen to continue on to the tiled, public, mens washroom.
Flaberghasted, I wondered who this rules flaunter was.. As disturbed as I was by these turn of events it was still more of a curiosity, in my mind, the identity of my pooping partner.

What happened next turned my pooping partners identity from curiosity to must know.

Long, Loud, mouth wide-open groans..

I could barely contain the shock that I was experiencing. Who was this rules flaunter? Who could do this? My pooping partner had to know I was there doing my biological deed - in fact there was another at the urinal as well. I knew that the person relieving themselves at the urinal was as equally shocked as I was. I wondered if they also knew that the groaner was not wearing shoes? Could the urinal user think the groaning was coming from me? I could not, no, I would not have someone think that this primal groaning was emanating from me. I now had a dilemma of timing.

I was determined to flaunt my rigid rules on workplace pooping. I was going to find out who this shoeless, groaning intruder was but I could not expose my identity to the urinal user lest the groans, if not the shoelessness, be wrongly attributed to me.

This was going to require precise timing. I could not control the timing of the urinal user or the monster in the stall next to me. All I could do was take care of my own business and be prepared for my moment of discovery. I pushed. I pushed hard.

The reader needs to understand that in addition to rigid workplace pooping ethics I am also given to relaxing whilst pooping. Wether at home or at work my philosophy was to also take one's time while pooping.

My parents, a product of their time, taught me little on the topics of biology of pooping or other things that the coming of age requires. My beloved mother's 'talk' about sexual awakening consisted of leaving a mini-booklet on my dresser entitled 'Necking and Petting' by Ann Landers when I was 17.

Needless to say, I was starved of information in that and other biological areas.

My fathers advice on biology consisted of exactly two things:
1) A Red Brown quote "Don't wash your whole bum, just wash your 'bum hole"
2) No matter how hurried you feel, take your time pooping'.

cont'd

A+ would read again, funny as sh!t (GET IT? LOL)

Two likes for you sir. I too am a workplace pooper. I work nights so my "movements" have, er... "moved" with my schedule. Good read.

Spent five minutes reading this and a few minutes of quiet reflection.

why, hello copypasta. been a while since i've read that one.

also, good post, OP. i lolled.

Prude

ahhhh nowt wrong with a good stiff sh!t

He carries a bukkit

kind of similar, I will go if I need to. but at the collage I'm going to, in one of the buildings, they have 6 single user bathrooms. in the main building though, there's normal washrooms.
in the normal mens washrooms, the urinals line up awkwardly with the rather large crack between the door and the stall wall of the handicapped stall, so that if you're in there and someone goes to the urinals, you can see each other quite well. for this reason, I use the smaller stall when I need to.
one short story I have of these bathrooms is that one day, I went to the washroom during a break, when I walk in there's one of the instructors, standing at a urinal, with his hands behind his head, singing Oh Canada. I quietly left before (I think) he noticed me.

Thats how many petitions you could have answered?