Holy Shit

I have just been witness to the loudest, nastiest sounding lady shit of all time.

Obviously I can't make this claim with absolute confidence, seeing as though it is impossible to compare my experience against every lady poop that ever was, but this was harrowing to an extent that I don't think I'll ever be able to wash the sound out of my head regardless of how much liquor I pour into it.

Dear.  God.

So let me paint a picture for you:

I'm sitting in a Starbucks on my computer seated at the last table available that is near an electrical outlet.  This table also happens to be next to the restrooms.

A husky woman shuffles rapidly past my table, bringing with her a small gust of wind akin to a subway car whooshing through a tunnel.

She barrels into the restroom and locks the door.

I'm still relatively unfazed at this point and I'm typing away happily when I hear the groaning porcelain sound of a toilet overburdened by obesity.

Poor guy.  I think to myself.  He shouldn't have to take that crap.

Before I can muster a narcissitic chortle at my own stupid joke, I hear what sounds like a high school chemistry teacher getting plopped into a baseball dunk tank.

I sit, my mouth agape with horror, as this stranger loses a dress size into the toilet only a dozen or so feet away.

After her first echoing salvo, I hear the woman quietly mutter, "Jesus Christ."

Jesus Christ is right, lady.

Are you trying to bring him back to judge the living and the dead by initiating judgement day?

Soon after the "Jesus Christ," the woman catches her second wind and fires off another round so hard it must, IT MUST, have cracked the toilet.

I almost puked in my mouth.

THEN SHE STARTS SINGING.

She starts singing "Whistle While You Work" from The Seven Dwarfs:  the most disgustingly applicable song imaginable for the FEMA-caliber effort that I'm sure was required to restore the restroom to operational status.

The worst was when she walks out of the restroom, dragging a trail of toilet paper from her right shoe.  As she walks by she makes eye contact with me and smiles.  And not even like a normal "Oh hello there, sir!  Jolly good weather we're having!" smile.  She gives me this coy half-grin which translates to, "You like listening to me poop, pretty boy?"

I want to die.