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There was this one time that I was alone in
the house when suddenly somebody burst through the front door and ran straight
up the stairs. As it turned out, they desperately needed the bathroom and
didn't feel the need to shut the door behind themselves. I was therefore
treated to the sounds of a stranger shitting their guts out. I heard every
fart, every splash and every groan. There wasn't a single element of their arse
flappage that I didn't experience with crystal-clear clarity! The problem was
that I was in the room directly opposite the bathroom and so, although they
wouldn't have seen me on their trip in, they'd be looking right at me on their
way out. The only thing worse than having a stranger run into your house and
start shitting up the walls is the social awkwardness afterwards and so I
started to panic. I decided to try and shut myself in so that I'd be hidden
from view, however, because my door is annoyingly creaky, I had to time my
actions to the sound of their... noises. Do you ever have those moments where
you look at your own life and wonder “what the fuck has gone wrong?” Hiding
from a stranger as they filled the house with the stench of their own anus was
certainly one for me.
