I Gotta Get Out Of This Place. If It's the Last Thing I Ever Do

    

    I once went to the Shop & Stop to do a little grocery shopping.  While walking through the aisles I all of a sudden felt this rumbling in my stomach.  I thought that maybe I should head to the men's room.  The men's room turned out to be a one urinal and one stall bathroom.  I was grateful that no one was in the stall.

    So I go into the stall to make a pie.  The pie has been a long standing euphemism in my family to describe a bowel movement.  As far as we know we think it originated with my father-in-law who grew up on a farm and saw many a cow pie.  Either that or it sounds more masculine to ask a kid if she has to make a pie instead of using the term poo poo.

     So I go into the stall and I have an experience that I don't want to get too graphic about.  I reach for the toilet paper and there is none.  Let's just say that I really really needed toilet paper.  Fortunately I had my cell phone.  So I Google the phone number for the store I was in and I call them.  They put me through to customer service.

    I tell the girl that I am in the men's room and that I need toilet paper.  She assures me that someone will be there momentarily.  So I wait and I wait.  No one shows up.  So I call again.  Girl tells me she's sorry but someone will be there in a moment.  So I wait but no one shows up.

    I call a third time and the girl is all apologetic but assures me someone is coming.  Again, no one comes.  So I call a fourth time.  I tell the girl look this is the fourth time I've called and no one has yet come with toilet paper.  She tells me that they just had a shift change, she has just come on, and she has no idea what I'm talking about.

  So I have to start all over.  So finally, after five phone calls and probably 15 or 20 minutes, some guy does show up and throws this giant roll of toilet paper under the partition.  

True story.