Went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'You're definitely going to St yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it again the next day, both of your as cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after
two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No
'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanero peppers swimming their
way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create
the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as
thunder and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of
just when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery
store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store, at first all seemed normal. I selected a
cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It
wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms
that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what
I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that
always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this
pain was different.
The habaneros in the chili from the night before were staging a
revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through
the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestine,
and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms,
which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a
warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly
enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been
recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might
escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower
part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just
as an elderly woman turned into the isle.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her
reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to
dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever
been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and
I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.
I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched
as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of
odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses
and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about
her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course,
made me feel terrible, but then it made me laugh. Mistake.
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things
'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an
explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and
echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked,
fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced
off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the
whole way, praying that I'd make it before the 'grand mal' assplosion
took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john,
began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat
because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while
I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He
made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Sonofabitch!', then
quickly left.
Once finished, I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled
cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store
employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for
a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the
store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute
or two which ought to take care of the problem.'
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to
escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to
cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted,
'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I
was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too
kindly not to return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was
nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The
next day I went to shop at Safeway. I can't say anymore about that
because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going
to have to repaint the store...
<p>Karen Brad</p>