Pooped in my Pants . . .


I read a lot of blogs when I get the chance on all kinds of subjects and one that seems to get a ton of verbiage is about people who work in offices.  Some are complaints about people who have co-workers who steal their lunch or co-workers who wear too much perfume.  A few about those people who haven’t mastered email etiquette at work.  I read blogs where people rant about their bosses, complain about their work schedule, moan about their cubicle size.

Which makes me feel somewhat guilty.

Because usually . . . I don’t have anything to complain about.  Sure, I might have a backlog of work from submittals or O&M manuals waiting for my attention or a list of calls to return but is that really something to complain about?  Not really.  The work hectic but I think I thrive on it if truth be told but this is just . . .

It’s sort of a gross story, but I did it as a child too . . . so I can understand the appeal. (Get it . . . A PEEL?  I’m here all week folks!).  I’m telling you it was funny.

Something happened recently that made me join the ranks of those who feel they have a legitimate complaint about their job.  While attending one of my project meetings with the general contractor and other subcontractors working with us another contractor (a grown man) held up his hand and announced to the whole group . . . I need to go to the bathroom!  I just farted and I need to check to see if I pooped in my pants!

Needless to say . . . Meeting over and everyone cracked up and was rolling on the floor.  The cat calls as he came back later were a combination of funny to downright dirty as everyone wanted to put in their dig, like:

Everything come out all right?

Sh*t Happens!

Ah Crap!  I’m glad that wasn’t me!

Grown men reduced to laughing imbeciles, deep down glad it had not happened to them.

Another memorable day in paradise!

Ice

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