I had gone to visit my wife at work a couple of weeks ago. She's an assistant manager at a local thrift store here in Nashville, and we're constantly scanning for things that have a half-off tag on them. During my search, the sweet tea and coffee I had drank earlier in the day finally hit me. I was going to have to bite the bullet and pee in the thrift store toilet.
If you've ever been to a flea market and seen its public toilets, you can imagine a thrift store toilet - it's maybe one level above in taste, cleanliness, and decor. This particular one was even located next to an emergency exit.
Anyway, on my way back to the restroom in question, I noticed a strange aroma in the air but couldn't quite place it. As I reached for the door, I noticed it was locked. I decided to knock before going up to the register to ask for the key and was answered by the occupant, who said, "I'll be right out." I'm a patient man and can hold my bodily functions pretty well, so decided to wait.
I was standing at a respectful distance of about ten feet away when a woman emerged. She looked like she had just left from the closest church – it was Tuesday - and came straight to the thrift store. All she said to me was, "There's no paper in there." I didn't think anything of it as I only had to pee.
When I entered the bathroom, I was met by a smell that could have knocked out a skunk. The air was so thick with acrid stink that my eyes began to water. I lifted the lid of the toilet carefully with my foot and noticed a massive turd sitting on the bottom of the bowl. The only thing I could compare it to was the wreck of the Titanic because it had broken into two pieces, and the two halves were sitting apart with one somehow turned around. But, it wasn’t the Turdtanic that most shocked me; it was the fact that there was no toilet paper WHATSOEVER in the toilet.
This woman that was dressed in her Sunday best had entered the restroom, caused a ship wreck, and didn't even leave one square, white survivor adrift in those calm but treacherous waters. I finished what I had to do; and when I flushed, I could have sworn I heard “Nearer My God To Thee" playing mournfully on a violin.
The horror didn't stop there. When I emerged from the bathroom, I noticed that the woman who had left the split grogan was still in the store, shopping as if nothing had happened. All I could think was ‘this woman is shopping and walking around with a nasty ass’.
Well, that’s not entire true. I also was thinking to myself, ‘You know that you’re going to post this on Poopreport.’ I found my wife and let her know what had happened, and then realized that this woman was nothing more than..."Oh, could it be........SATAN?"
