We have all been there. Nature calls and there is nothing you can do about it. If you are like us, we prefer ‘home field’ to have major transactions in the bathroom. (Note: our female editors have pointed out that for the ladies there is little difference in performance measures in using public bathrooms.) So, you have to use the bathroom (or if you are like the Perpetual Supreme Benevolent Editor, you are reading a good book) and you lock yourself in to the stall.
Just then, the guy who is dying on the inside plops down in the stall next to you and lets loose a torrent of fecal matter in mere seconds. Then he departs as quickly as he arrived leaving behind the death cloud
of stench
so powerful it kills the cockroaches that frequent the STATE OWNED bathroom. This man is:
THE BATHROOM ASSassin!
This is different than the Bathroom Dive Bomber:
Same set up. Locked in stall…blah, blah, blah.
Then the Bathroom Dive Bomber walks up to a urinal, does his business and at the last possible moment…Gasses the place and exits (usually without washing his hands because: a. he is a dickhole b. he is a disgusting human being and c. he can‘t stand the smell of his own stench).
Those two guys…well…stink, but there are no where near as bad as the bathroom talk show host.
Same scenario as above.
Johnny Carson wanabe: “Hey guy is that you in there trying to have some dignity in doing an inherently private thing in public? Just wanted to discuss something trivial that could wait until later. WHOOO…hey shooter, how bout a courtesy flush while I stand here for no good reason and continue bothering you?"
Sorry, we got off track be wear of the bathroom Assassin!
