Banned from Wal_Mart

This is a mighty funny story !! Don't laugh too hard it can happen to anyone.

Only a man could recreate this -
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 prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented "You're definitely going to $h!t yourself" chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your **** 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 "Watson's Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred 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 intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it 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 it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions 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 so terrible 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. Mistake.

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things "clamped down", 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 robbing the 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 way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal a**plosion 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 *** 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 sound, and
disgustedly said, "Sonofa ", then quickly left.

Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart 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 escorted from 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..



You can stop laughing now

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I nearly fell off my chair reading that. One of the funniest stories I have ever read.

Maybe it made me laugh harder, because I actually had a similar experience back in 1994. I worked for a water utility in their regional customer service office. There were about 60 staff there. We took customer service calls at the back of the office, and had a full shop-front where customers came to pay their bills & get building plans approved among many, many other things. We were quite busy, with up to 30 members of the public in the place at any one time.

Anyway, on this day I had been out the night before. I had quite a few schooners of full-strength beer, and finished off the night with 3 or 4 dark rums. On the way home I picked up a couple of kebabs (gyros) with hot chili sauce.

Needless to say, I was seedy the next day, but I battled on, and got better as the day went on. We normally closed the doors to the public at 4:45pm, and there was a rush of customers from about 4:15pm. I was serving on the counter for the last hour of the day. At 4:30pm I let slip a "silent but deadly" - I thought it was nothing as it wasn't even a big f*rt - just one of those little tiny ones that go "pop". But then the smell hit me, and I gagged, and stifling a laugh ran through the door into the back office. One of my colleagues asked me why I was red in the face, and I just laughed and said "watch that door - you may see a few of the other staff come running back here in a minute". And they did!!! Out of 6 others 5 bolted into the back of the office, coughing and grimacing. One poor, super-loyal staffer stayed behind to serve the customers (and try to explain what the stench was when they complained - he told them they must be emptying the grease traps in the restaurant next door - that is about the worst smell imaginable - 10 times worse than sewage (and I've been down a lot of sewers in my career)).

The boss wandered up from his office down the back, asking why there was a queue of people at the counter and only one person serving. Someone just said "Scott f*rted" and he said "It can't be that bad". So he was told to see (or smell) for himself. He walked out to the front office, and was back in seconds, holding his nose. We had to keep the automatic doors open and turn the air-conditioning on full to expel the putrid air from the building.

And my punishment.... instead of 5 of us doing the end of day closing procedures (daily takings etc), I had to do it all with just one volunteer overseeing me, who was given $20 cash as compensation for sitting with me for the next hour.

It took me a long time to live that one down - I rang head office in the city a month later to speak to a department, and when I said who I was, the first question asked of me was "are you the bloke who emptied the office with one f*rt? I had now become a legend throughout the organisation