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 On The Eight Day, The First OnePosted 02.15.2007 by Chip Brown (201)
There are some things in life that a man never forgets. His first kiss. His first beer. His first car. His first dump at a new job.
As I enter the fourth decade of my life, memories of my first kiss, my first beer, and my first car are reminders of a distant past. But memories of my first dump at a new job remain fresh and alive. I recently started a new job, my eighth in the past thirteen years. On the eighth day, while perusing the employee manual and acquainting myself with my new responsibilities, I absentmindedly noshed on a large container of gorp (a mixture of raisins, peanuts, and M&M's). It should be noted that I have a well-trained colon adapted to a high-fiber diet. But after several days of gorp-snacking, my colon said, "Enough is enough!" At around eleven AM, I felt my body hit the gorp wall. My stomach churned as the raisin-and-peanut mixture began its exodus through my colon. Slowly, methodically, the gorp bomb headed towards daylight like an old janitor pushing a broom down a long, lonely corridor. Everything ahead of the gorp was caught in its wake. That's when I saw the light and realized, "Today, I will take my first dump at my new job." I chose the spacious handicrapper in the men's room, took a seat, and prepared to make a memory. My light, airy gorp bomb largely floated on the surface of the toilet bowl, where it released a noxious, compost-like odor. Even though the men's room was vacant, I decided to utilize a courtesy flush. But as I turned to find the toilet handle, I realized that I was sitting in the belly of the beast: the dreaded robo-toilet. "Damn this evil technology!" I thought to myself. I then tried shifting my stance in an attempt to activate the automatic flush. I tried leaning forward, leaning to the side, and raising my ass off the seat. Alas, nothing happened. In my final attempt at courtesy, I turned my head like a contortionist and confronted the large, black automatic toilet valve. There I found a push button that manually activated my courtesy flush. Empowered, relieved, and rejuvenated, I finished my business and returned to my feet, allowing the robo-shitter to flush away my gorp bomb. As I buckled my pants, a smile cracked across my face as I admired the decorative bowl smear still remaining in the water-saving toilet. I returned to my desk confident in the knowledge that I again mastered modern technology. This is a first that I will never forget. Post new comment
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