> See if you can read without laughing til you cry.
> I went
grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that said
> 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 mess yourself' chili.
> Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a
> written guarantee from me that if you eat 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 appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
> symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.
> Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of when, I
> bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I
> often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
> 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, 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 spice and baking aisle, 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 an elderly
> woman turned into it.
> I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her
reaction
> would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she
> walked into it unsuspecting. 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 woman but didn't. I simply watched as
she
> walked into an
invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so
> terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running,
> was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though
> trying to ward off angry bees.
> This, of course , made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.
> 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 butt
> 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, ' Oh my God!', then quickly left.
> Once finished 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.'
> That 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.
> Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to
> eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went
> to shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we
are in
> court over the whole matter. They claim they're going to have to
repaint
> the store.
>
>
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