Dear Bathroom Stall Occupant:

There are twelve stalls in our floor 2 women’s restroom. For the sake of this inquiry, let’s call the stall furthest from the door and next to the wall Stall 12.

That was me, there in Stall 12, when you came in to attend to business this morning, and I just have a couple of comments I would like to make.

I mean no offense, but when I know my ass is about to explode, there are a couple of split decisions I make when choosing where I want to contain said explosion. First, I usually choose the first unoccupied stall I see upon entering the restroom. Second, if the option exists, I try to place myself as far from other occupants as is humanly possible without having an accident.

That being said, I’m very curious about the thought process involved in your decision to plunk your ass down in the stall next to mine…my stall being furthest from the entry, as well as the ONLY OTHER occupied stall in the whole, 12-stalled monstrosity.

Because, damn. I had to throw my lunch away when I returned to my desk, as suddenly everything smelled like ass.

Incidentally, you should really take a look at your diet. Because people should never smell like that.


Not a freak with a fetish for being near strangers when I shit

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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