Traumarrhea

Last night I went to the most delicious restaurant for dins - - courtesy of one Jamal Tang (yes, I'll still milking the 'I just got laid off' line) - - only to have the experience ruined by one trip to the bathroom.

If you have a weak stomach, much like my own, please do not read on.

As I stood waiting for the women's bathroom to open up, I noticed a strange smell coming from the men's bathroom which was vacant. So instead of breaking the rules and using the gents, I held out for the much cleaner women's room. Boy did I make a mistake.

The lady before me, not much younger than me, crept out with a sheepish look on her face. That was my first tip something was up. As I entered the bathroom, a smell overtook me that was beyond unpleasant. This person dropped the doodie bomb of the century. I held my breath, forgetting you were supposed to breathe through your mouth and not your nose in a situation like this. And I'm very stubborn, this bitch's foul ass was not going to deter me from doing my business. The bathroom was tiny, and dark, and suffocating...

and then I gave in. Yes, ladies and gents, yours truely was so overcome by the smell, that she puked in the sink. And it was painful- I think my stomach made it up to my throat.
I was still gagging on my way to the subway, and waking up this morning, the queasiness hasn't left me.

moral of the story- use the men's bathroom if the woman before you shat her brains out. done and done.