I refuse to poop in the men's room at work. Not because I am Shameful, but because for some reason men at my store can't seem to hit the toilet, but usually aim instead for the seat, the floor, or the wall.
So I normally poop when I get home, and rarely at work. But one night I couldn't take it anymore -- I had to take a shit. My co-workers know that if I poop, it"s common for me to do so in the woman's room, in the locking stall by the wall.
We had an electrical problem that night, so the lights were flickering in the bathroom, making it almost completely dark except for the light over the sink, which worked perfectly. I didn"t care. I hung the "Closed for Cleaning" sign on the door, went in, checked the paper levels, and locked the stall.
I was in there enjoying my poop as usual when I heard someone enter the restroom. I figured it was my coworker coming in to turn out the lights or something. How wrong I was. It was a woman!
The woman came over to my stall and started pulling the door. But I didn't say anything because I thought it might not be a coworker -- it could have been someone else entirely. Customers do forget to read those giant pink signs.
She gave up on my stall, entered the one right next to me, and unleashed hell on the toilet. I heard sounds I've only read about on PoopReport. Heavy breathing, straining, grunting, spraying, plopping... all of it. I was horrified. I had finished my own dump, but I had to listen to this monstrosity being born less than five feet away from me, by the opposite sex, in a place I should have never been in the first place.
I cringed on the bowl and waited until it was clear.
The manager's office is right beside the bathroom. After the woman exited the bathroom I went in there, called the front of the store, and asked if the woman had left. It was a pretty scary situation, because I almost got busted. Luckily it was never revealed to the customer why that stall was locked.
