Look Before You Leap

I had something kind of entertaining happen to me at work, last week. This story is precluded by my poor decision to consume a batch of store-bought jalapeño poppers, the night before. I grew up in a household where everyone had health and stomach problems, so my mother’s idea of seasoning never went beyond salt and pepper. As a result, my adulthood allowed me to indulge in the wonders of buffalo sauce, spicy seasonings and a plethora of flavours that I never would have experienced in an Acadian household, where their idea of cooking for an entire family is to basically boil everything in a single pot until it turns to mush. But I digress…

Although I enjoy tasting spicy foods (buffalo sauce is my favourite and goes on manny things), a lifetime of bland food developed a digestive system that doesn’t quite like to be challenged on such a brazen scale. As a result and even if I know better, I’ll sometimes indulge in ways that my system won’t quite like and will choose to voice its displeasure by causing anything and everything to come out in liquid form. You can be grossed out by that all you want! It happens to all of us, so don’t pretend to be high and mighty. If this is TMI for you, so be it. Moving on.

As I said in the opening paragraph, I had passed the previous evening by enjoying a handful of store-bought jalapeño poppers. Although delicious and hot at the time, it wouldn’t be until the following morning when I had digested them and made my way to work that the problem would present itself. Setting aside for a moment, the fact that snacking before bed is a bad idea, eating spicy foods right before bed is even worse. I hadn’t been to the office for more than an hour before the tell-tale gurgle in my abdomen told me that I had better make my way to a washroom, which I did. I won’t go into details about the specific lavatory trip besides saying that I made my way back to my office and spent the morning consuming plenty of water to prevent dehydration.

At one point during the lunch hour, I ran to the bathroom with my forehead bathed in sweat and my stomach threatening me in a way I had no way to stop. Luckily, our bathroom has a deadbolt and I can assume a bit of privacy when such events are taking place. However, it wasn’t until I was in the washroom, had experienced a Hiroshima-level explosion out my backside and allowed my pulse and heart rate to relax, did I look down and get a different kind of bad feeling in my stomach. Lo and behold, I was caught in every person’s worst nightmare at the office: there was no fucking toilet paper.

Now, such situations usually only take place in a sitcom or comedy movie. And in almost all of those instances, there’s the possibility of having someone walk in, on whom you can request some assistance. Even if I weren’t too proud to make such a request of other staff in my office, I faced the issue that I had dead-bolted the bathroom door upon my entry and there would be no way for anyone to open the door to come to my rescue. I began running through my options. The sink area obviously had some hand towels, but those couldn’t be flushed. I had no other options within the bathroom, which meant my only options would be outside the bathroom.

Given the nature of these bathroom trips, it wasn’t a situation where I could just lift my pants and carry on to go grab a spare roll and come back. Pulling up my pants before making some cleaning efforts would be unwise as it relates to getting through the rest of my day comfortably and without drawing too much attention to myself. I found myself with two options: pull up my pants and head home to finish out my day or do something naughty that one would typically see in a comedy movie. I chose the latter. What other choice did I have?

I lifted my pants just enough so that I wasn’t flashing anyone I encountered in the outer hallway. The, I cautiously opened the washroom door and peaked out. The hallways were clear from both sides. But there would be no warning if someone suddenly came around a corner. I had to dash quickly, grab a spare roll and make my way back without anyone seeing me with my pants undone. Although it shouldn’t be TOO complicated, since the storage area is less than ten feet away from the door. It was time to make my move…

I stepped out, ignoring the pit in my stomach at being spotted and called a flasher, and dashed for the cabinet. As soon as I opened the door and grabbed the roll, I realized I had used a hand for both of those actions and my pants had been released. My pants dropped to the floor, although my underwear mercifully stayed up. Unfortunately, the damage had been done. I tripped and nearly fell flat on my face in the middle of a heavily-travelled hallway within the office. I struggled to my feet and yanked open the bathroom door and basically fell inside and deadbolted the door.

I managed to clean myself up and make my way back to my office. I was sweaty and bruised, having exerted more energy getting a spare roll of toilet paper than I had during what I required it for. But it certainly taught me the important lesson that one must look before one leaps. Had I taken a second to check before sitting down, the entire situation could have been avoided. Looking back on it, I can certainly laugh about it now and it taught me something about paying attention to my surroundings. You’re never too old to learn. AND it provides a bit of laugh for all of you on your Tuesday morning! ☯️