In The Bathroom

Here's one of the more embarrassing things to happen to me in recent history.

I was at one of my regular haunts, writing some form of madness or another, when nature, as nature often tends to do, called. It was time for a trip into my friendly local public restroom.

The restroom was your standard, albeit cramped, fare. On the south wall was a sink with the soap dispenser above it and a decently sized mirror. The north wall had the toilet which was an average bit of porcelain of above average. cleanliness. And next to the toilet was a paper towel dispenser. One of those newfangled automatic numbers with the infrared lens that detects movement.

So, I perch myself atop the throne, and tend to business. As I start to relax, muscles begin unclenching and returning to a state of rest. And when muscles relax, the rear end, as rear ends are oft to do, relinquished all the gases from my body. . I tooted, a loud unashamed fart that echoed off the walls of the small room. The kind of toot that makes a man proud.

Suddenly, I heard a noise coming off my left shoulder. I glance over and look squarely at the paper towel dispenser. Apparently something, in that victorious fart of mine was so massive, so intense, that it was able to trigger the infrared sensor and convince it that someone was standing there waiting for a dry towel.

I'm currently reevaluating my diet.