The end of an Era

So I was forced to bare witness to something last night that I will never forget for the rest of my life. There will be memories in my life that when looking back on them in my dying moments will surely bring me joy, like the Chicago Bulls repeat of the Threepeat and the first time my wiener was touched by something that wasn't attached to the end of my own arm. Yesterday's experience wasn't one of those moments, but incredibly unforgettable none the less. Since I don't feel as if I should have to bear the weight of this knowledge all by myself, so allow me to paint a picture...

I'm sitting at a nice local Irish restaurant in my neighborhood called McDonald's enjoying my dinner when I hear a ruckus in the women's bathroom. Now I think I speak for males when I say that the entire concept of a women's bathroom leaves us baffled. We as a species know almost nothing about what goes behind these doors, and it has led to many unanswered questions. What does it look like? Why are there always so many girls in there at once? Why can't they ever go in by themselves? Do they have a DJ in there? For the longest time I have been convinced there must be some excessive accoutrement in those potty closets because I knew that there was no way girls pooped. Each girl had their own poop fairy (the indefinite bastard child of imaginary fairy family) that would come to them in their sleep and flutter away into the night sky with their lower intestinal distress. However, That notion was tossed out the window and fell perilously to its death last night at McDonald's.

I'm sitting in a booth when I first heard the ruckus; soon two women come out of bathroom together and one says to the other, and I kid you not, "Oh my God, I'm just so disgusted in myself, I just want to go home". Remember, I'm sitting there attempting to eat my dinner when this comes tearing apart my eardrums, suddenly I don't feel so hungry anymore. For years I had a long standing belief that girls in fact did not poop, and now that comfort was just put in serious jeopardy. I try to take a deep breath and expunge what I had just heard, but I have a good idea that the horrendous image burned into my mind is one that isn't going away anytime soon. Hoping that my ears had deceived me I try to focus my attention back to my inevitably less appetizing meal in front of me, but once again I hear commotion coming from bathroom. Seriously, is there a fucking rave going on in there? Maybe there's a moon bounce in there and all the neighborhood kids are having a ball just hopping around all night and having a blast; what do I know? I see a guy standing near my booth who has been waiting for his girlfriend to come out of the bathroom, and this is where all my worst fears are confirmed. She opens the door and then abruptly pauses, and while staring at her boyfriend she exhales a sigh of what clearly looks to be relief, wipes a bead of sweat from her brow, and gives her boyfriend two thumbs up. I am overcome with a feeling of both shock and awe because I can read the look on her face as if it was a Dr. Seuss book; she just finished giving birth to a massive dump. Have ye no decency woman? Her mission: accomplished. My fantasy: shattered. Now for the first time in my life I have been rendered utterly speechless. Both horrified and dejected by what i have just witnessed, I decide that its time that I go home.

Its never a good day in a man's life when they are forced to come to terms with the fact that what they have believed for so long has actually proven to be untrue. What's even worse is when you have to face the fact that you were lying to yourself; deep down I guess I always thought that idea that females didn't poop was a little bit far fetched, but it was what I wanted to believe regardless. Santa isn't real, and girls poop, and not only do they poop, but they can take gargantuan scale-tipping shits.

Konichiwa Bitches