Bob and Rebecca came to know each other in the toilet, figuratively and literally.
|"I remember it like it was yesterday... I pooped my pants on my way to work, which was the first day at work. Did you know diarrhea is hereditary? It runs in your..."
"Lemme tell you, Bobby. There's nothing funny about me. What I had was a medical disorder, IBS."
Dad used to tell me stories about his youth, mostly about his diarrhea.
"Yup, these are medium rare."
Actually, 95% of the time, it was about his diarrhea. Oftentimes he talked about it when he was grilling steak. Even now, I have no idea why
sizzling, juicy steak reminded him of diarrhea. I was tired of listening to all that crap because I never heard the end of his shit, so I didn't really pay attention to his admonitions. And that was my undoing.
Anyway, I grew up having diarrhea. Whenever I tried to date someone, I ended up pooping somewhere. Sometimes on the road, sometimes on the grass. I once was about to poop my pants on my way to the prom, and the same went for the first day at work. I literally flushed my talent and shit down the crapper.
The other day, a car stopped beside me when I was walking down the street and the man in the car talked to me. It all started on that day.
"Oi, cunt! Do you have any plans today?"
This is Daniel, my best Aussie friend. He is a huge beach bum and always looks tan except for his teeth.
"Hey, Daniel! Nah, I'm just gonna go back home and chill. What's up?"
He then said the same shit I've heard 500 times with a big smile.
"We're gonna have a party tonight! Wanna come?"
I saw it coming. He's like ice cream to lactose intolerant people. Everyone loves him but me.
"Ummmmm, sorry. I can't go."
"Why not? We've got lots of hot chicks and we need a handsome guy like you! Let's fire up the barby!"
"Whoa, sounds intriguing. But, I'd rather stay home and watch the NFL on TV like the rest of us do."
The last time I went to his party was a total disaster. I just can't live safely if I can't find any bathrooms within a 100-yard radius. Scratch that, within in a 5-yard radius.
"C'mon, mate! You don't wanna shut yourself in the bathroom 24/7!"
"Don't read my thoughts! I don't play games sittin' on the toilet!"
"Wait, do you?"
"ANYWAY, I gotta go. See you lat--"
Just as I was leaving, right on cue, my sister texted me. To put it briefly, her message was like "DON'T COME BACK HOME MY BF'S GONNA STAY WITH ME TONIGHT." I had been living with her for a while to save money.
"Whaaaat, no. Not this again."
"What happened? Your sister and her boyfriend are gonna Netflix and chill at your place tonight?"
"Yeah... kinda sorta."
"Perfect! Now you can come with me."
"No, no, no. I'm not going."
"No worries, mate! You look after your mates and your mates will always look after you! I have nappies. "
"Who'd date an adult man wearing a diaper?"
He was not even listening to what I was saying. He leaned out of the car window and went, "Try not to be a party pooper this time, Robert!"
"Thanks for calling me that amazingly sophisticated nickname in public!"
My name is Robert Gosling, by the way.