You waltz into the restroom, ready for action. Ready for some good ol’ defecation meditation. You can already hear it rumbling, it’s so robust. When suddenly…
In walks Ladypants Ladyface, settling in front of the mirror like it’s her private vanity. Oblivious to the bomb you’re dropping in about five seconds, she begins to give herself a makeover.
Here’s how you deal.
- Observe the irony. Your frustration with Ladypants’ presence, and your shame towards the prospective loudness of your poo, emerge from the same system of sexual objectification that prompted Ladypants to come in here and do her make-up in the first place.
- Observe your observation, and feel more confident/less ashamed about pooping loudly. Who cares how loudly you poo??? You’re an analytical B.A.M.F!!!
- Drop the damn poo, flush, and WALK OUT. DON’T EVEN WASH YOUR HANDS. JUST GO.
- Go back and wash your hands. Yeah on second thought definitely wash your hands.
- Go home and write what will become a massively popular think piece on pooping loudly. Post it anonymously if you’re more judicious than the author of this piece.
- Soar to journalistic fame. Enjoy a lucrative career investigating the pathology of poo.
- Attend fancy events with lots of famous people. Paul Krugman? Obama?? George and Amal???
- Eat lots of fancy and expensive food FOR FREE. Con: loud poo. Pro: dream career and catered parties.
- Digest your fancy and expensive food, go to the bathroom, and do your THANG. So many mini-quiches and deviled eggs…this one’s gonna come with its own set of speakers ifyouknowwhatimean 😉
- Endure a complete ideological meltdown when Amal Clooney enters the bathroom to fix her make-up. Goddammit.
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