It was a shining autumn evening in 1995. The Mid-90s were in full swing, before Late-90s walked upon the scene, and I was in an Arby's with some friends.

Well, right there, I had to dump. One of the unfriendliest of public shatting places is a fast food joint, but Arby's was so unpopular, I risked it. In the Men's, I found that the only stall had a door, but no latch to keep it closed.

In the throes of "having to dump," I delicately set the door as near to the closed position as I could. I then proceeded. In a moment, Chuck Romito came in to piss and, as a joke, kicked in the door of my stall, and walked out.

In mid-release, I pulled the reflex and shoved the door back, but it swung past its neutral closed position to rest wide open. The door was now ajar, away from me, and my condition prevented me from standing up. So I let it be.

And wouldn't it happen that a man in a suit walks in to see me shitting with the stall door wide open. I had nothing to do but accept this fate and hope he was not going to call the cops, or ask me out.

-- and Mark [1]