Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here

So forgive me in advance for a relatively disturbing topic of discussion today, but let’s face it, one of the most unpleasant scenarios you can find yourself in on a daily basis is needing to take a shit a work. Am I wrong? While perfectly acceptable in an intimate environment within your own house, something about this basic human function takes on a completely different level of awkwardness at your place of business. Though it’s a process that every human being must engage in at least once per day, we feel shamed when the call of nature hits us at work.

First comes the untimely and seemingly ear-deafening roar of your stomach. Next is the cold sweats that bead up at the top of your brow and roll down. With every movement you make, it’s as though every eye in the building is suddenly thrust upon you.

“Hey buddy, where you off to?”

“Um… nowhere… I, uh… just need some supplies from the mailroom.”

You can’t grab a magazine from your desk because somehow that boring old generic rag of no significance, when picked up, will glow like bioluminescence in a pitch black cave. No sir, you’re going to have to fight this battle on your own and as soon as you can make it out that door to the main hallway, you’re home free! That is… until you actually enter the bathroom. Welcome to the seedy underbelly of your company. The Red Light district.

Unless you’ve got a great job and work in a more upscale building, chances are that you’ve got approximately three stalls with which to conduct business. There’s generally two generic stalls and then the holy grail of pooping, the handicap stall. That’s the silver tuna, but the competition is fierce. For reasons beyond any comprehension, you’re up against two other co-workers at all times for the rights to the handicap stall. Seriously, it’s like Jamie Lee Curtis personally came to your work and dropped off 100 cartons of Activia to rival departments in your building. If luck is on your side today and you do manage to secure this “executive” stall, then you have little to fear… except for the threat of the dreaded “center staller.”

The “center staller” is the jerk who wanted the “executive” stall and now is going to exact their revenge by skipping over the open stall on the end and proceeding to take the stall directly next to you. You, sir, have just been “center stalled.” Unfortunately you’re in this for the duration. What you’ll typically find in this situation is that while trying to maintain some discretion and relieve yourself in a private and respectful manner, the “center staller” cares not and immediately begins to unload with great force as if years of anger management issues are now being expressed through his asshole. No one would think any less of you if you mused that the “center staller’s” projectile deucing bared an uncanny resemblance to the drum solo from “Wipeout.”

The good news is that while this experience has been utterly traumatic, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. A reward, you might even say. Chances are that the “center staller” won’t be done by the time you are ready to head back to work, so this leaves you with a tiny window to exact some revenge. Once you’re ready to depart, why not go ahead and just give that bathroom light switch an angry flick on the way out to send a message loud and clear to the “center staller.” The message simply reads as this: “You may have struck first in this battle of wits, friend, but you’ll now be pooping in the dark for your efforts.” If you’ve performed this veteran maneuver flawlessly, you’ll now be sporting a bright smile on your face for the rest of the day. Bask in this glory, kid, you’ve earned it.