I just had to borrow this from teamster.net............
One Man's Good Fight......
I went grocery shopping recently while not being
altogether sure that said course of action was a
wise one. You see, the previous evening I had
prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my
patented "You're definitely going to mess yourself"
chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being
painful, which comes with a written guarantee from
me that if you eat the next day both of your butt
cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and
even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know
what I mean) nothing happened. No "Watson's Movement
2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way
through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable
to create the usual morning symphony referred to by
my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet
not sure of when, I bravely set off for the market;
a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in
search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal.
I selected a cart and began pushing it about
dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I
was at the opposite end of the store from the
restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me
like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm
referring to that "Uh oh, gotta go" pain that always
seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is,
this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before
were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom
they bullied their way through the small intestines,
forcing their way into the large intestines, and
before I could take one step in the direction of the
restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it
happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle,
suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of
which has never before been recorded. I was afraid
to move for fear that more of this vile odor might
escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed
to leave the lower part of my body, and I
began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an
elderly woman turned into it.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to
see what her reaction would be to the malodorous
effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked
into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two
different directions emotionally? Here's what I
mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able
to relate.
I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I
simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and
apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible
that all she could do before gathering her senses
and running, was to stand
there blinking and waving her arms about her head as
though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of
course, made me feel terrible, but then made me
laugh. Mistake.
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep
things "clamped down", if you know what I mean. With
each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from
my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that
I was later told a
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that
someone was robbing the store and firing off a
shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming,
and I raced off through the store towards the
restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way,
praying that I'd make it before the grand mal
assplosion took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got
to the john, began the inevitable "Oh my God",
floating above the toilet seat because my butt is
burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in
while I was in the middle
of what is the true meaning of "Shock and Awe". He
made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, " Oh my
God!", then quickly left.
Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my
partially filled cart intending to carry on with my
shopping when a store employee approached me and
said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few
minutes. It appears
some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store.
The manager is going to run the vent fans on high
for a minute or two which ought to take care of the
problem."
That of course set me off again, causing residual
gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff,
jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose
and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted,
"IT'S YOU!", then ran off returning moments later
with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted
from the premises and asked none too kindly not to
return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that
there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I
consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop
at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that
because we are in court over the whole matter. They
claim they're going to have to repaint the store..
