Here I am, innocently squatting over a toilet as I prepare to let loose toxins from a few days ago, and next thing I know, an older college student with a son in the first grade enter the side stall.  Okay, and the beat goes on, I’m not doing a butt clench for anyone, because I am just a sociopath, y’know!

So I proceed.  I imagine, due to blatant clues in their conversation, as I let nature take care of itself the kid starts to open up his lunch, after peeing, while his mother takes a piss.  No, I assure you, the kid did not ever-so-quickly wash his hands and rush back to the stall…

Yet, the kid opens his home cooked meal, while I am marking the school my territory, and his mom, rather noticing the her son’s lack of hygiene, asks her son, ”Did that smell come before or after you opened your sandwich.

I was quite tempted to reassure her, “No ma’am, my shit is ready to spread on bread and your son is having a picnic in the bathroom stall that you’re peeing in, probably with toilet paper draped all over the toilet seat.”

When she realized that I’d probably heard her, she kept talking about the sandwich, as if making it seem as if she was sincerely asking about the sandwich would distract me from her snide, rhetorical question.

Apparently, my shit smells like a grilled swiss and cheddar cheese sandwich.