Lightning Strykez!
Former Mod On Pension Pay
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Wash Your Nasty-Ass Hands!!11!
A Lightning Strykez Adventure
A Lightning Strykez Adventure
So. I was standing in front of my office's restroom. I desperately had to pee (the morning's coffee had finally hit the bottom). But I didn't want to go in there. Why? Because the anal gas cloud was so powerful that you could smell it through the cracks around the door. You know how Firemen can tell how hot a fire is by touching the doorknob before opening the door? Um, yeah...there were definitely strong signals going on. Now, granted, I could've gone to another floor to pee, but we had clients coming in for a conference that morning--and I was going to be late. I had to make a decision. Now.
Bracing for impact I ran in, like a football player guns for the touchdown. As expected, the air is filled with stench--the kind of **** that makes your eyes water. The mirrors were fogged up. "This must be what sick buffalo smells like" I thought as the seemingly green smoke repeatedly raped my nostrils. I held my breath as long as possible as I tried to "rush it" at the urinal.
After I finished, I turned around, zipping up, and as I did so the stall door opened. Out came the source of the toxic fumes that had fogged up the mirrors and had me begging for an early death: it was a well-dressed, older businessman. He walked past and I followed. Naturally, I headed straight to the sink to wash my hands, but dude kept walking and left the restroom without doing so.
"What a disgusting thing" I mused to myself. There is nothing I hate more than people who do No. 2s in public, wipe their asses continuously--back-and-forth--and then don't wash their hands. It's a disgusting thing! Nevertheless, I dried my hands and grabbed an extra papertowel to wrap around the exit door's handle. After opening it, I propped it open with my foot, and slam-dunked the now-balled-up napkin in the aluminum wastepaper box.
Refreshed, I entered the crowded conference room and everyone was setting up their laptops. The clients were there (there were three of them so far) and people were shaking hands for your generic meet-and-greet. Finally, my director called me over to him and said, "Caliph I want to meet [Company X]'s Director of Marketing." "Okay", I replied, looking past his shoulder. And lo and behold, standing next to him is....
*enter Twilight Zone Music*
...you guessed it: the well-dressed, older businessman who didn't wash his nasty-ass hands 2 minutes earlier! "Nice to meet you Caliph!" he said. I looked downward. His hand was outstretched to me for a handshake...
Okay Hype: If you were in my situation, would you have shaked his hand?
I'll tell you all what I did later in this thread.