[Hey, You!] Turd Whisperer

You are the guy in the next stall who made me realize life in an office building can be full of surprises. I had just settled in when I heard the door slam and saw your leather shoes beneath the divider.Then your cell phone rang; the ringtone was a soft-rock version of “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.” You let the phone ring forever; when you finally answered, it was in Arabic, which I thought weird, considering the Christmas theme of The Nutcracker. Right in the middle of your phone conversation, you let out a pant-ripper that sounded like it came straight from Santa’s workshop. I laughed so hard I would’ve pissed my pants if they hadn’t already been down around my ankles. In case you thought the guy in the stall next to you was sobbing, I just wanted to let you know that I’m perfectly fine. Thank you.

Matt Bors

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to “Hey, You!” c/o OC Weekly, 2975 Red Hill Ave., Ste. 150, Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.

 
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