Open Letter to the Guy Grunting In the Stall Next To Me
Posted Wednesday, August 04, 2010 by Staff
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(Phoenix, AZ) To: The guy grunting in the stall next to me;
I thank you for the entertainment you provide me every time our paths cross each week. I appreciate finding humor in the simple things in life. So while you hear me next to you trying to muffle my giggling, I do have some serious questions and concerns for you.
Your grunts are constant but random. Would you find it helpful if I acted as a lamaze coach and called out a rhythmic pace for you to keep with your grunts? Although I would need to know what afflicts you in order to choose the proper cadence. Also if I knew the source of your affliction, maybe I would not be laughing so hard in the stall next to you. Do you suffer from hemorrhoids? If so, all your grunts and pushing are just making things worse. While I can sympathize with your pain, slow and natural wins the race. Let gravity and your muscles act on their own.
Maybe you are in a rush and have some ghastly job that does not allow you the proper time to evacuate your bowels. I hope that is not the case, but it would explain so much. Although judging by the intensity of some of your grunts, I fear you may hurt yourself. The human body is a delicate instrument and is capable of exerting forces on itself that it cannot withstand. Sometimes based on the sounds coming from the stall, I think this could be the big one. No not “Fred Sanford coming to join Elizabeth” big one, I’m talking the mother of all big ones… hernia. On this topic my concerns are self-centered. For you see if I heard you grunt open your abdominal muscles on the crapper next time. I too would feel the harsh string of a hernia from laughing so hard at you blowing a nut in the stall next to me. I assure you I would be of no use to you if you tore your body. My only concern would be trying to land safely as I fell off the seat in uncontrollable laughter.
Then there is the giant plop of something depositing itself into the water. When I hear that and your giant sigh of relief, I never know if I should clap, cheer, or reach under the stall divider to high-five you. (Well I guess technically that would be a low-five in more ways than one.) Maybe I can rig up some balloons and confetti to drop from the ceiling for you. You deserve some sort of celebratory action to reward what sounds like a major life achievement. Perhaps at the very least, you can bolt out of the stall and take a victory lap around the building.
Until you leave me a note with some answers, I’m afraid I will continue to be next to you giggling as you grunt away. With just a little bit of information I could get “Team #2” fan jerseys printed up so we could properly cheer you on. Until then, I’ll be laughing away with every grunt you make. Especially after lunch when the café next door has Theo’s Taco Tuesdays. It sounds like there is an unspeakable evil inside you. I often leave the bathroom and rush back to my desk to tell my friends that there is an exorcism going on in the third floor bathroom right now. Which explains why you hear the door open 5 times and no one ever comes in except the sound of giggling on Tuesdays. Then again, you probably have never noticed me or anyone else around you. Whatever it is you are doing, it sure sounds like it would take the concentration of a Buddhist monk.
Best of luck with your bowel endeavors and please be careful.
