So I'm at work. Lucky me.
And so I gotta take a shit. I save all my shits for work. So I shit at work an awful lot. And this was one of those times.
So I get up from my desk, leave the office, go down the hall, walk into the bathroom. It's empty. Fucking lovely, I'm thinking.
The bathroom is a normal one. It has two stalls for shitting, and two urinals. One of the two stalls for shitting is set up to handle retards/people who need to change diapers. It's big. Of course, that's the one I like to use.
So I head in, drop the trousers, and set up shop. As I'm working away at the assignment, I hear the bathroom door swing open.
"What the fuck are you looking at?"
What? Did somebody just come into the bathroom and proclaim "What the fuck are you looking at?", and if he did...who was he talking to?
And so I'm shitting, waiting for whats going to happen next.
I hear pissing.
"You're not so tough."
So at this point I don't think he is talking to me. I think he is talking to the urinal.
*Talking to the urinal.*
My brain can't believe it. It's telling me to get ready to fight this motherfucker when I step out of the urinal. But I tell my brain to relax, because the crazy guy is clearly talking to a urinal. Clearly.
And all the while, the piss sound. This guy is pissing in and swearing at the urinal. And it's amazing.
I'm half expecting the guy to start throwing punches. But he doesn't. He flushes the urinal.
"You're not so tough, tough guy."
It's taking everything I have to not laugh.
The dude leaves, and I finish up, admire my work, flush, and leave the stall. I look around. Is there another guy in here? But no. No one. It's empty.
He was talking to the urinal.
Furthermore, I think Peter Loubardias should be fired.