Chili - the morning after!
I went grocery shopping recently while
not being altogether sure that course
of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had
consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'You're definitely
going to ####
yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being
which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it
the next day
both of your ass cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after
two cups of
coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No
Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way
through my intestinal
tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of
just when, I
bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store
that I often
haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected
a cart and
began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It
wasn't until I was
at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the
pain hit me. Oh,
don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about I'm
referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to
hit us at the
wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a
revolt. In a
mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small
forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could
step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet
happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly
enveloped in a
noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was
afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh
so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my
body, and I
began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly
woman turned into
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her
would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate,
as she walked
into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different
emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at
least will be able to relate.
I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched
as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor
that all she could do before gathering her senses and running,
was to stand
there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though
trying to ward off
angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then
made me laugh.
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things
if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive
issue burst forth
from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was
later told a
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was
store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through
the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole
that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the
john, began the
inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because
my ass is
burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was
in the middle of
what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging
disgustedly said, 'Sonofabitch!', then quickly left.
Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially
intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee
approached me and
said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes.
It appears some
prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is
going to run the
vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care
of the problem.'
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to
escape me. The
employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to
cover his nose
and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!',
then ran off
returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously
the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was
nothing to eat
but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day
I went to shop
at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are
in court over
the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to
repaint the store...