Gastro Concerto


Some of us left the office early last Friday and went out for a few beers, then on the way home I stopped at a Four Deuces’ Breakfast at the Golden House. Then I stopped and got some coffee at Dunkin Donuts before going home. So, there I was at home on the couch, it’s maybe 10:30 and I’m in perfect harmony with the universe.  All I had to do was wait about thirty minutes and the evenings crown jewel would work its way down south.

Yes, timing really is everything. The next thing I know Diane from the office below mine calls and said she’s down the street and wants to come over. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I have four eggs, four pieces of bacon, four sausages, four pancakes, plus a side of hash browns speeding south along the Hershey Highway and she’s going to be here in five minutes. If she wasn’t the hottest piece of ass at work, and if I hadn’t been chasing her since last spring, I would have told her that we could hook up tomorrow night.  But she shows up in fifteen minutes with fresh lipstick, glazed over eyes and her thoughts in the gutter.  Now what would you do?

Well, I did everything to stall. I tried to get her to join me for another drink down the street at a bar I know has a good fan in the bathroom. I even tried to fake the ailing Granny and I’m waiting for a phone call, but then she just wanted to console me. And it’s not like I could say “Man, I really gotta shit like nobody’s business”.

Within a couple of minutes I was in some serious pain from trying to hold back the biggest fart outside a pig farm and I don’t know how to spell the sounds that were coming from my intestinal tract, but I think the horn section was in my traverse colon, the brass in my ascending colon, thestrings in my descending colon and the grand piano was parked at my rectum. The first movement of tonight’s Gastro Concerto sort just slid out when she tickled me and it smelled like something toxic from outer space. Just awful.  Moreover, it created enough room for everything solid to move south at approximately 126 miles per hour.

There was no use in trying to hide my situation. It was as blatant as the free sex presented to me five minutes earlier. (Free as in I didn’t even buy her a single drink tonight). So I rolled off the couch and made my way to the bathroom, where the maestro let loose. Needless to say, you can imagine how this night ended. She got a call from her roommate and she locked herself out of their apt and….

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