Chili

[Guest guest]

I went grocery shopping this weekend, which in

hindsight may not have

been very wise.

You see, the previous evening I had prepared and

consumed a massive

quantity of my patented " You're going to shit

yourself " chili.

Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful,

which comes

with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the

next day both of

your ass 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 ''s Movement 2'. Despite habanera

peppers swimming their

way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be

unable to create

the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door

neighbors as

thunder and lightning.

Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not

sure of just

when, I bravely set off for the Wal-Mart grocery store

for some tasty

breakfast and lunch tidbits.

Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I

selected a

cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for

purchase.

I wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the

store from the

restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't act 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 chili from the night before were

staging a

revolt. In a mad rush for freedom the 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 spice and baking aisle,

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

odor 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 an

elderly woman turned into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to

see what her

reaction would be to the invisible but odorous cloud

that refused to

dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting.

Have you ever been torn in two different directions

emotionally?

Here's what some of you at least will be able to

relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't.

I simply watched as

she walked into an invisible, and apparently

indestructible, wall of

odor so terrible that all she could do before

gathering her senses

and running, was to stand there blinking and waving

her arms about

her head as though trying to ward off angry bees.

This, of course,

made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.

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 ass 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, 'Sonofabitch!',

then quickly left.

Once finished 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.'

That 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 having shopped, I realized that

there was nothing

to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more

bowls.

The next day I went to shop at Kroger's. I

can't say anymore about

that because we are in court over the whole matter.

Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint

the store.