Tag Archives: girls who poop

The Exhilarating Game of Poop Chicken

Hi internet friends. I missed all of you. I missed blogging. I missed that anonymous net of support that comes when something really embarrassing happens to me and I get to tell all of you about it. Here’s a silly story to get back into the swing of things.

The other day I picked up lunch for my office (I now have a job where my main responsibility is to make sure everyone gets fed) from Tender Greens. The drive over, I felt a poop coming on and knew this was a great opportunity to do my business far away from the confines of our tiny office space. I had a plan going in:

Step 1. Go to the bathroom and poop.
Step 2. Pay for and pick up the food.
Step 3. Leave, feeling like a champion.

I entered the bathroom and discovered it was empty, which is great because otherwise I couldn’t have carried out step 1 (see this post for a detailed list of my pooping conditions). I slipped into the stall and settled in, elated at the thought of relieving myself. And then, the dreaded sound — some goddamn bastard walked into the bathroom and seated herself in the stall next to me. Okay, this isn’t the worst, I thought, annoyed. I’ll just wait it out until she leaves, and then proceed with step 1. So I waited. And waited. And finally realized that this girl had the same plan I had and we were now locked into a game of Poop Chicken. Intrigued and horrified at the same time, I lasted thirty heroic seconds before sucking my poop further back into my lower intestine, flushing the toilet, and shamefully leaving my stronger opponent to her well-deserved business.

At the counter, I paid for and checked all the food, and then had to awkwardly hand all of the food back to the cashier so I could use the bathroom. I’m sure she thought I was an idiot for not going before getting all the food, but if only she knew about my close call only moments before… Step 2 complete, I retreated to the bathroom and triumphantly discovered it to be vacated once again. I sat down on the familiar toilet (hello, old friend) and with the comfort that comes with being completely alone, I let that poop flow out of me like honey. It felt liberating. I almost enjoyed it, until — SPLASH! I whipped my head to the stall next to me and heard the telltale noises of a pooper. I nearly fainted. Some sneak had been hiding in a stall and avoided my vacancy check. And now we were pooping simultaneously. Someone in LA now knows that I poop. Terrified, I performed a cursory wipe before properly finishing and darted out of the bathroom. I grabbed all the food from the confused cashier and ran to the car, uncomfortably feeling the effects of a poorly executed wipe. Once back at the office, I had to inform my colleagues that we can never go back to Tender Greens and no, I will not be taking any questions about it.

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