Going number two at work

Going Number two at work

To shit or not to shit

Going Number two at work

Every single man or woman has had this moment at some point in their life. That really awkward moment when you have to take a shit at work. Belly gurgling you have to go drop bombs moment. As if it’s not bad enough, even as a grown-ass man. Having semi flashbacks to high school. When going number two in a public bathroom could lead to social disaster/public humiliation. This all-over a natural bodily function, which looking back was totally ridiculous, but eh we were young I guess.

But even if the public “going number two at work” game has changed due to all of us being adults in the workplace. Very few things are more creepy than being in a stall, pants down while the constant sound of men walking towards and past the stall and unzipping their pants. Not to mention smaller stalls always have a gap in the door. Which can create a truly uncomfortable eye contact moment. Then even more disturbing, after spraying the seat with a carry size Lysol. The residue removing hard flushes, four layers of seat covers, and building a dick hammock, so you don’t fall into the contaminated water. The pre-prep poop process is ridiculous!!

You sit down and the fucking seat is warm. And that thought cannot escape your mind that minutes before you sat on this pile of paper and plastic another man’s ass is the reason the seat is warm. And the ultimate clincher, you choose the disabled stall for its uhh “girth“.  But as soon as you relax enough to drop the “kids off at the pool“. The one disabled mutha*&%6 on the entire floor decides he wants to use the bathroom too. Having the nerve to be knocking on the door…… Smh.

I would love to train my body to only take “evacuations” while I am home in the comfort of my walls, where I can just plant my ass on the seat in the comfort of my own familiar surroundings. But at some point, we all have to think about going number two at work.

#randomlifemoment