When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Go

Story Sent in by Heather:

I was out on a date with Chris. We had walked around the city and stopped into a restaurant for dinner. He was loud and bombastic and I wasn't really that into him. He went to use the bathroom and then came back and asked me, "How regular would you say you are when it comes to taking dumps?"

Anxious to end the sudden dump conversation I said, "Like normal, I guess."

"What's normal? Once, twice, three times a day? And when?"

"Once or twice and in the mornings. Why are you so interested?"

He cleared his throat so loudly that it made me jump. He said, "Because I just took a dump and it's on my mind. I dump, like, six times a day. So you think I'm abnormal?"

"I think talking about this on a first date is abnormal."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's just dumps. Everyone does it. Don't try to tell me you don't."

"I just told you I did it once or twice a day."

"And I'm the weird one," he laughed, "You're the one looking down on me for dumping so much. Coconut milk is the big doozy for me. I drink that and it's like super-laxative time!"

Chris then waved down the server and asked them if they had any coconut milk. She said they did and he ordered some. He leaned in close to me and said with a smirk, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"

I put on my best sudden illness performance (believe me: not a lot of motivation was required) and said, "Can we actually get the check? I suddenly don't feel so well."

He leaned in again and said much quieter, "Do you... do you need to dump?"

I put what I owed on the table and teetered up. "I... I just really have to go."

And so I hurried out and away from dump-man.