The other day, I had to take a major shit after lunch. I knew it was going to epic judging by my protruding belly and the fact that I hadn’t had a good one in a few days since I started taking a new iron supplement. I had a nice break before my evening clients, so I was really looking forward to spending some quality time blowing up my bathroom.

When I arrived home, some dude was on a ladder right in front of my apartment digging his hands through the ceiling. I have no idea what he was fixing, but in order to not scare the shit out of him, I politely whispered that I was going to sneak past him into my apartment. Once inside, I dropped my bags, ran to the bathroom and birthed a pile of poo. It was very satisfying, but not a clean sweep if you know what I mean. Mid-wipe there was a knock on the door. Fucking shit! It’s probably the ladder dude, who is now going to think I’m avoiding him or just plain rude. I tried wiping the residual mud from my asshole, but it ends up spreading like butter instead. A second, more aggressive knock on the door follows, so I throw some toilet paper in my underwear and answer the door. It turned out to be my landlord asking me if my water was running, which I knew it wasn’t since the second flush after my courtesy flush (I have a foster kitten in my bathroom) did not go down. They quickly resolved the issue, but I think the more pressing issue is giving people enough time to drop their bags and a healthy deuce upon arriving home. What happened to chivalry?