January 24, 2011

Dear Man in the Next Stall

[... Posted by Ryan]

Dear Man in the Next Stall,

Don't pretend I didn't hear you. I walked in only a moment after you. I heard the sound of toilet paper folding into the form of a toilet seat cover. And then to make it even better you used a toilet seat cover. Is there a reason for that much protection? Are you trying to fool the world into believing that your bowel movements are made up of waste more pure than everyone elses?

Although we only shared moments of disgusting sounds, I feel I already know enough about you to not want to be your friend. There were three open stalls. And although Man Law indicates you are to choose the furthest stall away, I'm not sure it meant for you take the handicapped stall when there were two regular stalls available. For this, I believe you are a creature of habit. One who believes that your comfort is an issuea far greater than the comfort or even well being of a possible handicapped who may have walked in; yes this also includes very big people who need that stall.

But again, you used three layers of sanitation between you and the toilet seat. Did you somehow think that your normal, skinny physique is somehow better than that of an overweight or handicapped person? Is that why you believed that your skin could not touch something that another's skin had touched? Are you so naive as to believe that we are not the same?

I could understand if someone had left a surprise on the seat for you. But did they? The world may never know. You are like a serial killer, cleaning up after yourself leaving not a trace that you were even there. You even cleaned the sink after you washed your hands. Do you even work here? Are you trying not to leave fingerprints because in some sick way you'll think that I will dust the handles after you leave? Ultimately proving that you are guilty of a crime that happened twenty years ago which luckily has no statute of limitations?

But again, I heard you. You may have thrown three sheets down to prevent your skin from touching the seat, but your body produced some of the worst sounds I had ever heard. I was disgusted that I could smell your excrement only two stalls away. Were you genetically engineered to render your prey unconscious with those smells? Luckily, my sense of smell is under developedand I didn't fall victim to your evil plot.

Then, after you leave the stall, you look at me and smile as though nothing had transpired and I'm supposed to ignore the fact that you just reigned biological warfare on me. I was the victim of a Kamikaze attack that went wrong, because for one; I survived. And for two, you walked away leaving a chemline trail throughout the bathroom. Your victory was almost complete, I had begun to feel the effects of methayne gas poisoning. But then. Someone opened the door and the fan kicked on. You sealed your own fate, because you should have known that methayne can be transferred with ventialtion.

The battle was won, and I had emerged a survivor. Victorious. Your declaration of war had been recieved and like Switzerland I chose to remain neutral. I feel although this battle has been drawn to a close, I fear a next encounter. I may not survive without the enhanced ability of a gas mask.

I wonder if your attacks are based on a higher power. Will you walk lovingly into the manor of gods? Will you recieve 72 dark haired virgins? I know not. But until the next encounter, I remain fearful.

The Survivor of Your Chemical Assault.

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