[Beestie]

Part II

Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not
so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit
itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle
with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the
puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a
puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about
one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.
Now, back to the vomit... While all the shitting was going on, the
vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on
the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the
macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the
human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I
bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending
over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly opened
legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above
my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway
between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was
wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles?
In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or
three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in
my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by
my feet.

In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of
turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants
full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet,
spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet,
and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of
my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all
over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.
And there was no fucking toilet paper.

What could I do but laugh? I must have sounded like a complete
maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually
asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded
like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if
he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring
some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet
paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I
simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what
was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I
needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we
were sitting and he left.

At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just
a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.
About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not
knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her
voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out
words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that
I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably
assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just
needed to being the car around so we could bolt immediately.
Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go
across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new
pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage
around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers.

And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She
began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I
promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to
handle damage control for the time being. She left. The manager then
came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I
asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured
me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned.
Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going
on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect
anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's
making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think
it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that
manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally
grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.

Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls
and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to
make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom.
He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I
began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing,
my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the
stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic
bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished
cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in
the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the
stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there
naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only
made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep
it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up
the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the
center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the
bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all
he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff
were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so
hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to
scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up
by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at
Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff
of any restaurant in which I have eaten.