Sunday, August 1, 2010

Gas (Not for the feint hearted)

On Friday I bought a supermarket BBQ Chicken and some rolls for dinner. I'd had a bad day, work is awful, my friend had a car accident (She was ok, just in shock). I was late getting back from the gym. At any rate by the time I eventually got home, I was in no mood to cook so I went with something easy and store bought.

I think I need someone to follow me around everywhere I go and whenever I'm about to do something stupid, they can slap me across the face and yell "Stop, Think about what you're doing!"

I even put copious amounts of cheese *SLAP* and warm chicken gravy on top *SLAP*. Then I put the whole lot in the microwave and nuked it to within an inch of it's life so it was all gooey and melty goodness. I may have washed it down with a Sprite. *double SLAP*

Not surprisingly, yesterday I woke up with a swollen belly and stomach pain. Ah, yes, stupidmarket BBQ chicken with it's endless additives, preservatives, marinated in grease and stuffed with fat, it truly is the dinner that keeps on giving.

I had to go out. I'm determined to get the weekly chores done before midday Saturday so I can have the rest of the weekend to myself. Anyway, while walking around the shops with a Skinny Vanilla Cappuccino *SLAP* in hand, I began to feel more and more uncomfortable.

My belly was quite swollen by this point. My jeans where noticeably tight. Then came THAT rumbling feeling. I wasn't even sure where the nearest public toilet was! *SLAP* Amazingly, it hadn't even occurred to me to look. Something I do almost as unconsciously as breathing normally.

After a moment of panic, I remembered my iPhone has an app called "Toilet Mate" which not only tells you where the nearest toilet is, but links into google maps to give you directions. I looked in my bag and suddenly had a flash of my iPhone sitting neatly in it's charger dock. On the bench, AT home *SLAP*.

I looked around me. The shopping strip consisted of bars, restaurants, clothing stores and a Plaza. It was 10am so bars and restaurants were of no help. Wait... Plaza? That's another name for mini mall right?

Beeline. I made one.

When I finally found the public toilet, there was one person in line ahead of me and soon after three more people (two women and a young child) queued up behind me. I waited impatiently in line (Disabled toilet was out of order and the mens - yes, mens, I'm not precious - was being cleaned) until my turn.

There were two toilets in the restroom, but one was clearly blocked. It was overflowing with water and soggy paper and the seat and floor were soaked. For a moment, whilst in line, I contemplated using it. *SLAP* I mean what are the chances of catching Cholera or Leprosy from a shopping centre? and seriously, how bad could it actually be? *really hard SLAP*

Fortunately, as I was building up the courage to venture into the bacterial orgy, the working toilet flushed and the women exited. I ran in, dropped trou and sat down.

For a moment there was nothing and then I broke wind. I'm not talking about a little note from the bum bagpipes or a subtle blow of the arse trumpet either. This was the full orchestra. I'm talking window rattling, leaves a ringing in your ears, Richter-scale registering, hold on to the toilet for fear of being blown off flatulence.

And it went on forever! At least 60 seconds. The bathroom acoustics didn't help matters either, that thing was echoing off the walls, floors and ceiling. It almost took on a life of it's own.

"Oh God!" I heard a woman mutter in horror, followed by the sound of the outer toilet door being hastily wrenched open and the clambering of footsteps as women and children fled for their lives.

When I was finished, I emerged out of the toilet stall to an empty room. I washed up, un-disheveled my clothes and hair and made my way back out to the shopping centre. Interestingly, my stomach was no longer swollen, sore or grumpy after that.

My Crohn's monster: clearing public domains since 2002. ;-p