Nope, It Doesn't Get Any Better Than Taking A Dump At Work

I admit. There are a lot of great things in my life – a loving wife, two beautiful kids, a house in the “right” neighborhood. But I’ll be darned if there’s anything better than taking a dump at work.

The monotony of having a career can wear thin, day after day, year after year. But you know what never gets old? Dropping off a poop package in the office crapper.

It doesn’t matter if you’re perched atop porcelain at the police precinct or filing doody documents at the DMV. Crapping on company time is the best pay an employee can ever receive.

But listen up, rookies – cutting turds during your break is a common amateur mistake. Take it from a pro – guzzle coffee during breaks to speed up the digestive process so twenty minutes after you return to work, you’re guaranteed to be waddling, cheeks-clenched, on your way towards pinching a loaf at the toilet-town bakery.

A critical thing to keep in mind, however, is choosing the perfect restroom in which to do your business while at your employer’s business. For God’s sake, don’t shit where you eat and defile the dumper nearest your desk. You don’t want to assault a familiar co-worker who is stopping by for an innocent pee with the scent from your ceremonious poop parade.

So when you get the urge to purge, take the stairs and travel to another floor that no one ever goes to and make your piece in peace. Honestly, the workers on that floor will get to know you because of the daily dump visits and it’ll probably become a running gag.

“Is it 10:30 already, Terry?”
“Must’ve been that third egg mcmuffin, Henrietta!”

Everybody wins. Henrietta from accounting gets a pleasant greeting twice a day and I get paid to crap my brains out.

Occasionally, I’ll miss an important meeting or an urgent phone call because I’m on a covert dookie mission but I just tell the boss I was busy making copies or helping someone with a computer problem. It works every time.

At best, I end up looking like an overachiever when all I’m really doing is sitting on the john, counting the holes in the drop ceiling, waiting for the whistle to blow so I can go home and prepare for tomorrow.

As soon as I get to my house I begin my ritual of swallowing bean burritos, devouring bowl after bowl of oat bran cereal and enjoying a slice of prune cake for dessert – all in the name of on-the-job potty training.

Now, if you’ll excuse me – I have the sudden need to “make some copies”.

This is going to be awesome!