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Just a Regular Guy - part One

Story ID:6656
Written by:Michael Timothy Smith (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Caldwell Idaho USA
Year:2010
Person:Me
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OurEcho Preface This post deals with a mature theme or contains explicit language. While the post is not extremely violent or pornographic, it does contain language or explore a subject matter that may offend some readers. If you do not wish to view posts that deal with mature themes, please exit this post.
I write inspirational stories, but some times
I don't. This is an old one. I rewrote it today.
Many can relate to this
This one is just a fun one.


Im Just a Regular Guy Part One

Everyone has to do it. Its a part of life, but not always a part of life we have the
best of control over. Its caused me some discomfort a few times.

Normally, Im regular a morning person but not always. One morning, I didnt
feel the need to go, so I grabbed my lunch, threw on my coat, and headed out the door for
work. I slipped the key into the keyhole, felt a twinge in my stomach, and shrugged. Ill
be OK until I get to work. I thought.

Ten miles into my twenty-mile commute, the twinge was a full blown cramp. I
held the steering wheel with one hand and my stomach with the other. Every few minutes
a wave of pain crossed my abdomen. I drove faster, cursed my stupidity, and prayed I
wasnt stopped for speeding.

I reached the city. Traffic was light a small miracle. I got through the last light,
pulled to the curb in one of the only free parking areas I knew of, and sighed. Relief was
only a half mile walk away. Sweat beaded on my forehead. You can make it! I
promised the white face that stared back at me from the rearview mirror.

I stepped from the car. The winter air chilled the sweat on my brow. It was
strangely comforting, like a nurse with a cold compress whispering, Your going to be
OK, Mr. Smith.

Two hundred feet into my journey from hell, I realized Id left my lunch back in
the car. There was no turning back. If I had time, Id go back for it later. There was
something more important to attend to that day.

I crossed an intersection walking like an
old man on his last legs. It was a
downhill walk from there and only two more streets to cross. I was wrong on that
point. It wasnt a walk. It was a waddle. A man cant walk with dignity while holding
his rear cheeks clenched with every once of power he has.

The second intersection was crossed - one block and another light to go. I got
half way there. A spasm of pain stopped me in my tracks. A woman almost walked into
my close to volcanic rear. She gave me an evil look and went on her way. I stood in one
spot, took deep breaths and prayed for control.

The pain eased. I tried a step, felt my cheeks separate an oozing stopped,
and clinched tighter. My breath came in gasps. Baby steps, Mike. You can do this!
Running was not an option. Id lose focus of an important function if I did. Bent like a
man of ninety, I tiptoed down the hill.

The door to my office building was in sight, but it may as well have been a mile.
I thought of the games we played at school picnics as a kid. We held spoons full of
water and moved as fast as possible to a cup. If you went to fast, you spilled water and
your cup took forever to fill. I held a full spoon that morning.

I reached the last intersection. The light took forever to turn green, before I
could cross. I climbed the steps. The door to the building was in my hand. It swung open
with a bang I pulled too hard.

There was only a few hundred feet to safety down the hall, turn right, bathroom
on the left. I was almost on my knees with pain. One hand held my stomach and the
other touched the wall for support.

I turned the corner. The door with the symbol of a man on it was in view.

It was then I realized, a daddy does have eyes in the back, but not in the back of
his head. My rear end saw that door too. With the door in sight, it began to relax. I felt the
first bit of relief too soon. That was when I ran. I pushed through the outer door, slammed
through the inner one, hit the stall door like a linebacker, while unbuckling my belt and
dropping my pants. Before my bottom even hit the seat, there was a bark, and the splash
of water meeting me on the way down.

Thats it? I asked myself. I almost died for that?

The sweat wasnt dry on my face yet, when the door to the bathroom banged
against the wall again. I heard a man panting as he hit the stall door next to mine. I saw
his pants around his ankles before the door slammed shut, and I heard the bark of
relieve again.

I would normally be disgusted, but like him, I tempted fate. I realized, Im just a
regular guy.

Michael T. Smith