The trip to Bunnings
I went to Bunnings recently while not being altogether sure that course of
action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed
a massive quantity of my patented Road-kill chilli. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the
point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you
eat it, the next day both of Your butt cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of
coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's
Movement 2'. Despite Habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was
unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder
and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I
bravely set off for Bunnings, my quest being paint and supplies to
refinish the den.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and
began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at
the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.
Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm
referring to that 'Uh, Oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong
time. The thing is, this pain was different. The habaneras in the chilli from
the night before were staging a revolt.
In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small
intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in
the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened.
The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in
a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to
move for fear that more of this vile odour might escape me.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my
body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red
aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction
would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate.. Have you ever been torn
in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of
you at least will be able to relate.
I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he
walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that
all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there
blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry
bees.
This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.
BIG Mistake!!!!!
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down',
if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst
forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in
other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing
off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off
through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole
way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the
inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my butt is
burning SO BAD, purging.
One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true
meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said,
'Son of a gun!, did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly
left.
Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart
intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said,
'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some
prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans
on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'
My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape
me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and,
pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning
moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises
and asked none too kindly not to return
Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat
but leftover chilli, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at
Woolies. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole
matter.