Stinky 2: The Sequel
Now that I'm on the subject of odors, allow me to share another pleasant story from Friday evening. If you're eating dinner you might want to come back a little bit later on.
My Friday was quite pleasant. Things weren't too difficult. Every so often I would see different guys that had to be part of a large group. How did I know that they were together? Each guy held two bottles of beer. Quite often they would finish one while they were relieving themselves and leave the empty in the stall.
It's rather confusing as to why they were double fisting the beers that night. We weren't that busy. Nor are we a nightclub. Nor are we a frat party. If you're drinking beers that fast in your 30s, then you have a serious problem. Adults use a little thing called etiquette. One at a time is sufficient.
It's interesting to note that at least one of these guys paid for his binge drinking. What's not so interesting is that it happened in the restroom.
I was hanging out, just minding my own business, when at 9:30 a man walks -- rather quickly -- into the restroom. He looked like he was holding his breath. Only, it wasn't his breath he was holding. Thankfully he walked to the stall furthest from me.
For a good while I kept an eye on the stall to make sure that he was okay. I wasn't going to disturb him, because I really didn't want to see anything nasty. My thinking was if he took a little too long I'd go get management and they would deal with it.
About 10 minutes into his ordeal, the stall door opened for a brief moment. It then swung back closed.
"Ewww... This can't be good," I thought.
5 minutes later two women walked in and asked me if I had seen a guy matching his description walking into the bathroom. I pointed them to the correct stall. One women asked me if she could go in and help him. I told her it was okay. After all, seeing how that guy looked when we walked in I was 100% positive that sex was not on his mind.
Shortly thereafter a group of guys came down to check on him. In the ensuing chaos one of the guys found his way into the stall. For the life of me I can't figure out how three people fit in that stall.
For a good period of time the various people involved in the party came down to check on him. The problem is that they were drunk and obnoxious. Men think that they're being really funny by disturbing their drunk and puking friend. Therefore, several of them tried to get in and quite often they pounded on the door. The people in the stall were getting upset about this. They eventually locked the stall door and would not let any of the friends in.
It was really starting to aggravate me. Plus, there were three people in the stall together. I felt as if I was a robot whose programming was being violated. I expected myself to start shooting sparks and exclaiming "Does not compute! Only one to a stall, please! Does not compute!" I was positive that I would just collapse with a hum and a whir.
Throughout all this his friends joked with me about his drunken state. As if I was supposed to laugh at his misfortune. One asked me if I thought we should call an ambulance.
My response, which was very dry, was, "If you think it is necessary, the management will gladly call an ambulance for you." I don't think he thought I was funny. Gee, and I heard in school once that alcohol poisoning is one of the funniest things around.
The whole ordeal lasted about an hour. The affected man was eventually escorted out of the stall. He almost resembled a "special" kid with the way he was being escorted out holding the woman's hand and the way that he walked. I almost felt sorry for him.
After they left I had to cordon off the stall because it smelled like vomit. I gave it about a half an hour to air out. We have the best fans that can get rid of the worst poo smells. I thought that vomit smells would easily go away. Boy was I wrong. When I left at about midnight the damned stall still reeked to high heaven.
Y.E.L.R.A really needed a drink that night.
Update: I forgot to mention this. I rode the train on the way home. At one of the stops a rather disheveled man walked on. It was obvious he hadn't bathed in a while. In fact he had something that resembled oatmeal attached to his mouth. It looked fresh, too. Of course he sat right next to me. I immediately decided I had had enough that night. I got up and walked to the other end of the car.
My Friday was quite pleasant. Things weren't too difficult. Every so often I would see different guys that had to be part of a large group. How did I know that they were together? Each guy held two bottles of beer. Quite often they would finish one while they were relieving themselves and leave the empty in the stall.
It's rather confusing as to why they were double fisting the beers that night. We weren't that busy. Nor are we a nightclub. Nor are we a frat party. If you're drinking beers that fast in your 30s, then you have a serious problem. Adults use a little thing called etiquette. One at a time is sufficient.
It's interesting to note that at least one of these guys paid for his binge drinking. What's not so interesting is that it happened in the restroom.
I was hanging out, just minding my own business, when at 9:30 a man walks -- rather quickly -- into the restroom. He looked like he was holding his breath. Only, it wasn't his breath he was holding. Thankfully he walked to the stall furthest from me.
For a good while I kept an eye on the stall to make sure that he was okay. I wasn't going to disturb him, because I really didn't want to see anything nasty. My thinking was if he took a little too long I'd go get management and they would deal with it.
About 10 minutes into his ordeal, the stall door opened for a brief moment. It then swung back closed.
"Ewww... This can't be good," I thought.
5 minutes later two women walked in and asked me if I had seen a guy matching his description walking into the bathroom. I pointed them to the correct stall. One women asked me if she could go in and help him. I told her it was okay. After all, seeing how that guy looked when we walked in I was 100% positive that sex was not on his mind.
Shortly thereafter a group of guys came down to check on him. In the ensuing chaos one of the guys found his way into the stall. For the life of me I can't figure out how three people fit in that stall.
For a good period of time the various people involved in the party came down to check on him. The problem is that they were drunk and obnoxious. Men think that they're being really funny by disturbing their drunk and puking friend. Therefore, several of them tried to get in and quite often they pounded on the door. The people in the stall were getting upset about this. They eventually locked the stall door and would not let any of the friends in.
It was really starting to aggravate me. Plus, there were three people in the stall together. I felt as if I was a robot whose programming was being violated. I expected myself to start shooting sparks and exclaiming "Does not compute! Only one to a stall, please! Does not compute!" I was positive that I would just collapse with a hum and a whir.
Throughout all this his friends joked with me about his drunken state. As if I was supposed to laugh at his misfortune. One asked me if I thought we should call an ambulance.
My response, which was very dry, was, "If you think it is necessary, the management will gladly call an ambulance for you." I don't think he thought I was funny. Gee, and I heard in school once that alcohol poisoning is one of the funniest things around.
The whole ordeal lasted about an hour. The affected man was eventually escorted out of the stall. He almost resembled a "special" kid with the way he was being escorted out holding the woman's hand and the way that he walked. I almost felt sorry for him.
After they left I had to cordon off the stall because it smelled like vomit. I gave it about a half an hour to air out. We have the best fans that can get rid of the worst poo smells. I thought that vomit smells would easily go away. Boy was I wrong. When I left at about midnight the damned stall still reeked to high heaven.
Y.E.L.R.A really needed a drink that night.
Update: I forgot to mention this. I rode the train on the way home. At one of the stops a rather disheveled man walked on. It was obvious he hadn't bathed in a while. In fact he had something that resembled oatmeal attached to his mouth. It looked fresh, too. Of course he sat right next to me. I immediately decided I had had enough that night. I got up and walked to the other end of the car.
posted by t.a.f.k.a.y.e.l.r.a. at 22:15
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