Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Call Of Doody

This morning I was sitting in a stall, minding my own business when two men entered the restroom and approached the two urinals pictured above. (Yes, I took a photo later on just for this to make sure you got the right visual. I know, I know. Disgusting. But the ladies would never get to see firsthand so there you go.)

I will refer to them as Man A and Man 2.

Man A: “Oh, I love these things.”

Man 2: “Foot pedal to flush. Wide opening. You can't miss. I'd like one in my house.”

You can't miss? Do you try to?

Man A: “I bet you could turn around and, you know, go doody.”

Yes, he actually said “doody”.

Man 2: “Oh, yeah. You could probably do that.”

Man A: “But I wonder if it would all flush down. Big pieces might get stuck or something.”

I can't believe this conversation.

Man 2: “Well, you know, if it was all liquid like, you know, like after eating Mexican, it probably would go easily.”

After eating Mexican? Dude, where are you eating?

Both flushed, presumably using their feet, and went over to the sinks where they rinsed their hands off. Now I could hear humor in their tone as they scrunched paper towels.

Man 2: “You seem like you're a...almost a...uh...like a connoisseur of toilets.”

Man A: “Yeah, it's been uh...an interest of mine for quite some time now.”

They left and I finished...you know...going doody.

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