Hypothetically Speaking . . .

. . . . . . . . Because Humor Matters

And Sometimes the Crap Hits More Than Just the Fan

Written By: Michael Rochelle - Nov• 17•19

I am all types of adorable! You know it. I know it. We all know it.

A wise person once said, “Never have drinks with coworkers.” Because I have problems with authority, I usually don’t listen to wise people. Instead, I drink with as many coworkers as possible. Sometimes we take our first round of shots as early as 8 AM to start our day on the right note. That noted, it wasn’t surprising that I found myself bar-hopping after work on a Friday evening as if I were still in my teens.

Well, one thing led to another, and I found myself waking up the next morning on a couch. It took me about five minutes to realize the couch was mine. I was thankful for this realization. Waking up in my apartment was so much better than that one time I woke up in the middle of a Bed Bath & Beyond. Ok, if I’m honest, it has happened three times.

Anyway, not long after I woke up, I received a text message that read, “I’ll see you at 10.” I clutched my invisible pearls. What had I agreed to the night before? This is why I believe cellphones should come with breathalyzers. If you’ve had one drink that is stronger than your grandma’s Kool-Aid, your phone should simply cut off before you can call your ex, text your pastor, or make any other questionable decisions while under the influence.

For some reason, after every happy hour, instead of climbing into bed and crying over the error of my ways like a normal person, I instead spend the evening adding coworkers as friends on LinkedIn. One morning I learned that I had even added my CEO and the entire executive team. Perhaps I’m the only person who has a drink and then skips over Instagram and Twitter just to jump on LinkedIn to search for career guidance and expand my network. Ugh!

Apparently, in my martini haze, I had agreed to go hiking with my neighbor and her dog. My neighbor shall remain nameless for fear that her association with me may incriminate her and cause her to lose her job as a janitor at the local Popeyes. She’s been a little stressed out since the return of the chicken sandwich. Apparently, there’s been a lot of foot traffic, so it’s hard to keep the floors clean.

When we got to the trail, I’m pretty sure she thought better of inviting me. First, she’s used to running through it, which we both knew I didn’t have the stamina or lung capacity to do. Second, although I was wearing my version of hiking boots, that didn’t mean I wanted to get them dirty. You should have seen the look on her face when I asked her to carry me up the trail.

Once we got going, we had a great time. Actually, I shouldn’t speak for her. I had a great time. We talked about our lives, our hopes, and our dreams. We laughed. We cried. We would have ordered take-out but none of the trees had an address posted to which we could have had food delivered. After observing how much the dog was enjoying himself, my neighbor and I came to the realization that people are really terrible and should probably be voted off the island at the next tribal council.

At some point, I believe my neighbor noticed my legs beginning to buckle, so she decided we should start heading back to the car. I mean, it’s not my fault. Everyone’s legs aren’t meant for walking. Mine are clearly ornamental. It was around about this time that it happened. An incident that would change our lives forever. (Insert dramatic music here.)

Just as we were getting close to the car, my neighbor’s dog found something of interest along the trail. Before my neighbor could make sense of what was happening, the dog decided to roll around on its findings. I thought that maybe the dog had an itch, or it just wanted to smell like grass for the day. I understood the sentiment and would have joined in with the dog if the next thing hadn’t happened.

“Oh my gosh!” my neighbor yelled. “It’s poop!”

I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation at the time. Perhaps this is because I am not a dog owner. I just laughed and watched from a safe distance. I had no idea that the poop was fresh. I had no clue what form of mammal, person, or pigeon left the poop. I hadn’t even considered the smell we’d have to endure during the drive home or any of the other possibilities. However, many of my friends said that they would have left the dog there. Perhaps we should have.

Just a small bit of proof from ANOTHER instance of me rolling around in my findings.

Just a small bit of proof from ANOTHER instance of me rolling around in my findings.

My neighbor and I continued to talk during the ride home. Every now and then she mentioned the smell, but I was too into embellishing my stories to notice the scent. Before long, my neighbor pulled up into our apartment complex, so we thought we’d navigated the worst of the situation and would soon be out of the car and breathing the smoggy air that we’ve gotten so used to that we call it “fresh.” Unfortunately, the dog had other plans.

As soon as my neighbor turned the car off, the dog did what dogs do. It now thought differently about the poop that was caked into its fur, so it decided to be like Taylor Swift and just “Shake It Off.” I felt like I was Tom Hanks in Saving Private Ryan. Bullets were flying everywhere and whizzing past my head left and right. Except, it wasn’t bullets. It was poop.

For some reason, perhaps because I’m not that bright, my natural reaction was to turn toward the dog. In hindsight, this was clearly a mistake. As crap pelted my forehead, my cheek, and my lip, I knew that life would never be the same. In this movie, I was a casualty. I would not make it out unscathed. I would not make it to the sequel.

When the poop settled, it was all over the dashboard, all over the roof of the car, and all over the seats. The rearview mirror revealed the poop slowly sliding down my forehead. Whatever had relieved itself in the woods that day was clearly not concerned about its diet. As I swiped at what I consider to be “animal diarrhea” from my face, I noticed it sliding down my jacket and also dripping from my chin as I exited the car.

I dashed to my car and grabbed napkins and hand sanitizer in hopes that it would partially help until I was able to make it into my apartment where I would need several showers to absolve my lips and my cheeks of the excrement that had once been there. At this point, my neighbor looked at me with disgust as she turned green. “Ewww, it’s in your hair,” she said before dry heaving into a bush. There was nothing I could do except laugh.

My apologetic neighbor soon sent me on my way as she needed to figure out how to take care of her dog and car situation. I quickly made my way to my apartment, hiding behind shrubs, and darting behind trees so my poop-drizzled face couldn’t be seen. As my luck would have it, I opened my apartment door at the same time as my neighbor across the hall opened his. Apparently, his puppy had had enough of his owner’s shenanigans and considered this its lucky break as it dashed out of his apartment and right past me into mine.

With poop still glistening on my face, I chased the puppy around my living room. Of course, the puppy considered this to be a game as it darted underneath my coffee table and down the hall. Eventually, I apprehended the dog and was able to hand it back to its owner, who frowned and looked me over curiously. I didn’t even bother trying to explain. Instead, I closed my door and headed for the shower.

Two weeks later, as of this writing, I am still in my bathroom scrubbing my lips and forehead ferociously. Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to exit my shower, show up at some random happy hour, and add a few coworkers as friends on LinkedIn before doing this all again. Hopefully, next time the adventure will be crap free.

How can you be mad at me? Look how cute I am!

Michael Rochelle
Humor blog: www.humormike.com
Facebook: michael.rochelle1
Instagram: humor_mike_
Twitter: @mikeyllo

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2 Comments

  1. Josh says:

    That’s probably a fetish in Japan. You coulda made bank if you had video of that!

  2. LOL. You make a good point. Apparently, the dog has done it several more times since then, so there is still time for me to collect. I’ll get my camera ready.

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