In the mind of anyone who has heard that familiar intestinal rumble, there is but one fear: the terrifying, almost phobic thought that you are going to shit your pants. But that's it, right? That is the worse thing that can happen.
Wrong, my friend. You are very wrong.
In fact, there is something much, much worse. A detestable, mind-torturing creature that I like to call The Toilet From Hell. If you have ever entered the zone of this diabolical piece of porcelain, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. This is not your usual dirty, infectious bathroom. Oh, no -- The Toilet From Hell moves your fear of public restrooms to a whole new level.
I ventured into this area of no return one day as my husband and I were visiting a local casino. From the moment I entered this plush locale, I knew this was no normal bathroom. It was state of the art. There were automatic sinks, electric hand dryers, various styles of soaps and creams; and as I went into the stalls, I found there were automatic flushing toilets. Yes, this was a classy situation, to say the least; it even came equipped with a smiling attendant to make sure that the guest's every need was met. Well, at least, that's the way things appeared.
So, having eaten some rather questionable Chinese food before entering this palace of paradise, I hurried into the large stall and plopped my rather large ass down on one of the excellent commodes. Grateful for the opportunity to empty my now very angry stomach into this sparkly contraption, I let loose with all I had. I heard the sound of a watery substance filling the area beneath me, and relief filled my whole body. Then, without warning, a horrible stench rose from between my legs and filled my nostrils with what can only be described as the smell of a thousand pig farms. I could hear other patrons outside, and I knew immediately that I had to flush away this odor before it escaped the confines of my stall.
This thought had no sooner entered my mind when I heard the sound of the toilet flushing beneath me.
Immediately I was once again relieved -- but only for a split second, because the toilet no sooner stopped flushing than it began to flush again, and again, and again. There I sat with water splashing across my rear like a large wave from the ocean. This became very irritating in short order, so I decided I needed to make a hasty retreat and reached for the toilet paper.
This is where the fun really begins.
There, in the large toilet paper holder, were two full rolls of toilet paper. But neither one would come out. I pulled and tugged at the holder, trying desperately to get even one sliver of paper to dry off my now very wet behind. The more I pulled at the holder, the more noise it made, but no paper would come out -- and the flushing had gotten faster and louder.
What was I going to do? My ass was now covered with water and dripping wet. If I didn't dry off, my situation was going to be obvious. I could hear whispering outside, and I knew that everyone in this restroom was talking about the loud noises coming from my stall.
Finally I decided to make a break from the tidal wave I had going on beneath me. I jumped up, gave my backside a firm shake, and pulled up my pants. I walked out of the stall feeling the water running down my legs. I walked past the smiling attendant, straight to my amazed husband, and out to my car.
We drove home without a word about why I was drenched or what had happened. I guess you could say it definitely wasn't my lucky day.