.gif "LOL")
)I went to "Lowes" recently while not being altogether sure that
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 sh*t yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff,
albeit hot-to the point of being painful, which comes with a written
guarantee from me that if you eat it, 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 was unable to create the usual
morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.
Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when,
I bravely set off for "Lowes" Store, my quest being paint and supplies to
refinish the den.
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, I 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 paint and stain section, 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 clerk in a red apron turned
the corner and asked if I needed any help.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would
be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate... 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 clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he walked into
an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could
do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving
his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course,
made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. ......BIG 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 ass 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,
'Son-of-a-bitch!, and asked, 'did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly
left the room.
Once finished and 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.'
My smirking 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.
.gif "Happy")
