I quite fancied a poo. My problem was I was cramped to buggery in the corner of a bar. And sandwiched between four giggling girlies to my right and four barking boyos to my left. My colleagues on our work night out… and they were ALL engaging me in conversation at once.
It is most unnerving to be the centre of attention all of the time but part of my life I’m afraid. I considered simply excusing myself but then recalled the intense sadness that usually occurred whenever I left a group of people (even for mere minutes). It was like they were losing a dear, sexy uncle… No I couldn’t do it to them.
I needed a discreet escape exit and I turned to my old friend: the penknife. Whilst sixteen eyeballs bore into me and eight mouths fired questions like, ‘What’s your secret?’, ‘What shampoo do you use, it’s excellent’ and ‘I love you!’, I proceeded to secretly saw off the table’s legs in front of me.
A minute later the table collapsed; several glasses breaking in the process. Thankfully they were all so transfixed by my face that they failed to notice. I had my escape exit… now I needed a distraction.
But what would distract them from THIS? (My face I mean). Then I realised. MY FACE WOULD.
‘Look!’ I bellowed, then took out my phone and opened up a photograph slideshow – every image was of my face. Resisting the urge to watch it too (it really is a wonderful slideshow) I put the phone in the hand of the girly to my immediate right and they gathered around her like children at Christmas (touching really).
I slowly leaned back – becoming as rigid as an ironing board, – and slid down off my chair. As my buttocks reached the ground, I raised my feet up to avoid the broken glass all around. I then realised if I was to get across this treacherous terrain I would need padding…
I scooped up the girlies four handbags in one fell swoop. Then I wrapped two around my arms, two around my knees, pivoted myself around 180 degrees and proceeded to army crawl to the other side of the pub. Reaching the bar, I climbed back up, dusted myself off and looked back at my work colleagues.
They were still enamored with my slideshow. I had ninety more seconds until it stopped – then they would realise I was gone and would become inconsolable. I had to get to the bathroom FAST.
I marched to the bathroom to encounter one of those men selling perfume. I could see the delight in his eyes in seeing me. I knew he knew that if I let him squirt me with his finest liquid, soon after every man in the bar would be asking him for some. His business would be quadrupled in one night.
But what did I get in return for such philanthropy? That’s when I saw that there was only one cubicle and it was occupied. Perfume Man might come in handy after all, I thought… but I decided to first appeal to the good nature of the man in the cubicle.
“Now look here Sir”, I said through the locked cubicle door, “I need you to pull up your trousers and vacate the cubicle immediately.”
“But… I’m pooing!” a meek sounding man cried from inside the cubicle.
“Look, my friends don’t know I’ve left. I distracted them with a slideshow. But it will run out in less than a minute. When it ends they will realise I am not there and they will be crushed. Surely you have a heart Sir?”
“But… the poo.”
I sighed and turned to Perfume Man.
“There’s no getting through to him. How about we exchange a favour for a favour?”
“What do you mean?” Perfume Man asked, rather abruptly I thought.
“If you get me in there, I will let you spray me with your finest liquid.”
Then, for some unfathomable reason, he threw a punch at my face. Thankfully I have reflexes like a cheetah and darted to the side. He jabbed at me with his other hand and I blocked it. Now it was my turn… I karate chopped him in the neck and he collapsed onto the ground like a ton of bricks. I then picked him up by the belt and starting swinging him back and forth, crashing his feet into the cubicle door. Again and again.
“What are you doing!” I heard Meek Man scream in terror.
“I gave you your chance! I’m coming in whether you let me or not!”
As I finished saying this, the lock broke and the door burst open. I dropped Perfume Man to the ground and Meek Man quickly pulled up his trousers and flushed the chain. “You will regret this!” he stammered and rushed out.
“Never!” I yelled, sat down on the toilet and let it all out. It felt glorious; imagine your most satisfying sneeze and quadruple it. I reached for toilet paper to feel just the dry tube. The toilet paper… was all gone.
Written by Gareth Brown @GarethBrown26