I wasn't ready to make such a decision today. I didn't need to deal with this first thing in the morning. All I wanted was to just take a nice, peacefull, "undisturbed" morning #2 ....to put it as nicely as possible. The day had started off just like every other day. However my morning commute to work could have been a little better. The entire drive feeling like you will just explode at any given second. Not having your morning cigarette for you know the fury it would bring you within .. perhaps what it may cause you within your trousers. Not stopping somewhere to ease your pain for knowing that you just can not be late, not today. Had to make it to work on time. Didn't need to have my boss on my back again. Racing to work, not to ensure you were on time, not that you wanted to be the first to get the best parking spot, but because you have to "unleash yourself"... in one of the employee restrooms. And needing too....Badly. Asking myself why I had to drink so much during the Monday Night Football game last night, why I had to finish off the last of the Taco dip. So I make it to work. Having to run to my desk first to make it known to all that I am there...that I am on time today. I punch in my arrival. Then, still "holding on", I make my way there...my morning heaven...the restroom. From having had such an experience before, but not as bad as this time, I have known that the 2nd floor men's room was barely ever occupied. For mostly the women at the office resided on the 2nd floor. This restoom was pretty much no mans land...secluded..so this morning it was to be my sanctuary. I enter...there is no one inside. Just like I expected and much to my enjoyment. I pick the 3rd stall towards the end. I'm about to enter the stall to "finally be at peace" when the restroom door opens. Making my enterance I glance over to see whom it may be and to my horror.....it was Mr. Branson, my boss. So I found myself sitting in the stall. Crossing my fingers praying and hoping that he may just have to relieve himself quickly in one of the nearby stand up urinals, wash his hands and be off. When I first noticed him, as I was entering the stall, I momentarily thought that I should have just turned around, said my hello, and should have exited to find another place to "confide myself" in. I had changed my mind though. I knew it just would not appear right and I knew that I just could not hold on another minute. The time was now. So here I am, seated nicely within stall#3. Anxiously waiting for Mr. Branson to finish his business so I may then "unleash my fury" apon this poor porcelain throne when my ears alert me to something close by . My God!...he's entering one of the stalls!...No,No, No!...he's entering stall #2!....He's right beside me!!! What should I do?!....this one is going to bad..I know it...I am sure of it .. I am well aware of the tremendous amount of noise that will be involved...the smell that I shall cast alone could wipe an entire nation. He will know it was me and that image, that portrayal of myself will be within his mind always. Alan Smalls, me, the bathroom bandit. Do I make a mad dash out of there to find solitude somewhere else? If so, will I make it there in time? or will the courtesy flushes be enough to drown out the the volume of my fury and the stench that shall persue? Will the......Oh,oh.. .. oh my god....oh god...it's too late... I can't.....oh god...aaahhhhhh!!....................Sorry Mr. Branson
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