Potty Talk

This post is probably not about what you think it's about...or, maybe it is.  It's about poop.  More specifically, it's about all the weird things that people think about poop.  The idea for this post came to me when I was using the bathroom at work the other day and, during that visit, it quickly became apparent to me that my colleague in the stall next to me was, uh, well pooping (aka Moving her bowels, dropping a deuce, hitting the groover, dropping the kids at the pool, painting the bowl, taking a dump, making a dookey, sitting on the throne, pinching a loaf, taking the Browns to the Super Bowl, dropping a stinkpickle, and my all time favorite, giving birth to Baron Von Turdmeister).  As I settled into my stall, I became aware of the fact that somehow the dynamic in the room had changed.  By that I mean, I noticed a change in her approach to pushing out her chocolate pup.  She seemed somewhat embarrassed by the whole act and wanted to hide her identity and what she was doing.  That observation got me to thinking, why are people so ashamed of their poop?  People will walk into a bathroom and not think twice about unleashing their stream (aka taking a leak, taking a whiz, seeing a man about a horse, draining the snake (there is no equivalent for women that I've found yet), taking a tinkle, going pee pee, going potty, tapping a kidney), but people seem to really have a tough time allowing people to know they are painting the bowl.  You know those of you reading this right now know exactly the dynamic I'm talking about.  Maybe you've gone into the bathroom and the overwhelming aroma lets you know that someone is flushing their pipes, but the person who is actually doing that will be really quiet and you get the sense that, if you could peek into their stall, they would be tapping their feet, quietly whistling, and looking around as if nothing is happening.  And, when all is said and done, that person will try to hang out in the stall as long as possible, hoping everyone will leave, so the other patrons of the pipes won't know who is guilty for the homemade stink bomb.  

Then, there are those people who won't go poop in public at all.  These are the people who, no matter how uncomfortable they may be, they won't go to the bathroom if they are not at home.  I always wondered how that came to be and, what do they do when they are on vacation?  "I'm sorry, honey, we have to fly back home today.  I've got a turtle head sticking out and I can't use the bathroom here".  How does this happen?  Was there some traumatic event in their past that no longer allows them to bake brownie bites unless they are in the comfort of their own commode?  Don't these folks know that everybody poops?  It's a natural thing that your body does.  Granted, some of the odors that accompany the action are wholly unnatural, but everyone creates their own natural gasses and that's just a statement of fact.

There's also the group of people on the other end of the spectrum.  We all know these folks, too.  These are the people who not only do not hide the fact that they're paving the Hershey Highway, but they share this information loud and proud.  You know these people.  They'll get up and say something like, "Man, I've got to take a crap".  Then they'll grab their favorite reading materials or hand held electronic and go settle in to the chapel of the porcelain god for a while.  Then, once they've emerged shrouded in a toxic gas cloud, they make an announcement like, "Whew!  I think I just lost a few pounds" or "I wouldn't go in there if I were you".  These also tend to be the people who will openly share when they have passed gas (aka tooted, popped, farted, sang the Weight Watchers theme song, been interrupted by their round mouth friend behind them, been chased by barking spiders, let one rip).  These are the people who will proudly claim the smells they create and may even have a rating scale for them.  Some of my guy friends in college would actually fart and simply say, "Rebuttal?" which would then invite any other male within gassing distance to throw their air in the ring to see how it would size up.  While it was a disgusting, if not totally entertaining game, these guys at least had the courtesy of giving people a warning by having a poster on their front door that had a picture of a guy in a gas mask and said, "Toxic gas area".  And they were proud of it.

Me?  I'm somewhere in the middle.  I will poop when I have to.  I won't make an announcement about it, but if the smell is really powerful, you bet I'm claiming credit for that bad boy.  I would love to hear how other people deal with their bodily functions, but until then, I'm going to go fuel up with some Fiber One bars...hm, hm, pppfffftttt.