Proximity Mines

I guess technically a remote mine but you get the idea

So I was at work late the other night and at the end of my shift, I went to the bathroom.  Let me further set the scene.  2 urinals, with 2 skinny stalls directly to the right of said urinals.  2 sinks on the opposing wall, each with its own mirror.  I step up to the urinal on the right, which is next to the first stall.  I see one blue and white nike shoe, facing away from the toilet.  This shoe presumably belongs to a person sitting on the toilet, and they also presumably have another shoe, most likely matching that shoe but the left sided version of it.  What I'm getting at is this person is pooping.  He definitely hears me come in, but I don't hear him until I'm about 1/3 of the way through my pee, and he lets out a little fart.  And at this point, I think we all know what's going on.  This guy is trying to quiet poop because he's embarrassed to let 'er rip because he doesn't want to make a scene.  So of course I smile to myself and immediately think, "I haven't blogged in a while."

Every part of my brain, with the exception of my limbic system, which for some reason decides to remember social norms, wants me to say to this guy who is holding in his poop, "just go for it, man, no need to be shy."  To this day, 2 whole days later, I still regret not saying anything to this mysterious, blue and white nike shoe wearing poop-holder-in-er.  The world needs to know that the bathroom, yes, even public ones that are still called bathrooms despite their clear lack of baths, are for pooping.  People needn't be ashamed of using the facilities for which they were designed to facilitate.  Take a deep breath, open that sphincter, and excrete with pride.  You deserve it.  You had the common courtesy to not poop where it has been deemed to be unfit to poop.  You mastered your bowels at some point between the ages of 2 and 18, now be the master of skid road.  

Now, I admit, I've been that guy before.  I've been a quiet pooper, a courtesy holder.  BUT NO MORE.  No more will I bow to the pressure of not farting in a public place designed to contain farts.  No more will I eek out little ppp's when sort of alone in a stall where I can still see other people's feet and sometimes narrow slits of people through the crack between the door and the far wall of the stall. I refuse to feel like this guy when I drop one in a fancy restaurant

That's not cool.

 Because you can make me poop in a room full of people, but you can never take my fecal freedom!

Hold.....HOLD.............NOW!