On the phone in the bathroom.

So, sometimes when I go out into public, I occasionally have to avail myself of a public washroom.  I don't like it; I don't really think taking a crap is a spectator sport, but sometimes you just have to.  One of my pet peeves, aside from water everywhere or a filthy bathroom or no toilet paper, is this new trend of people talking on their cellphones while in the public washroom.

I always wonder, do the people on the other end of the phone call KNOW that their friend is talking to them while they're on the crapper?  What would they think if they did know?  Is there something I can do to make them more aware?

So the other day on my way home from the job interview I mentioned previously, I stopped at a Tim's on my way home because I wanted a bagel, I was horrifically thirsty, and I REALLY needed to pee.  So I go into the washroom, pick a stall, sit down and am doing my business when I realise the person in the stall next to me is on the phone.  I was a little thrown right at first, I thought she was talking to me, which seemed weird.  Who strikes up a conversation in the bathroom with a complete stranger in the stall beside them, really?  I could tell she was trying to be quiet in what she was doing so the person on the other end of the phone wouldn't know she was in the bathroom, so I decided to make it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that someone was being subjected to a bathroom conversation.

I waited for a brief lull in the conversation, put my hands over my mouth (like when you were a kid.  Don't deny it, we all did it) and let rip with the loudest, lengthiest fart noise I could possibly produce.  I had exhaled so hard and so long to make this fart noise that I was actually starting to see spots by the time I stopped.  I followed that with a series of loud, quick, staccato fart noises, punctuated with the occasional groan or sigh. 

Then I really started to get into it, partly because I was enjoying myself and partly because I knew if I stopped, I would start laughing.  So I upped the ante, making longer and louder fart noises, mixing in some groans and moans and the occasional plea to God, sometimes banging on the walls of the stall or stamping my feet on the floor like I was taking the longest, loudest, biggest, most hellacious dump in the history of ever.  From the stall next to me, there was a sudden, shocked silence.  I could tell she was still there though; I could see her feet.  On to the grand finale!

I took a big, deep breath, and made the loudest, longest fart noise I think I have ever produced in my lifetime, pressing my hands over my mouth harder to vary the pitch from a deep rumbler to a high squeal.  I stamped my feet on the floor, and banged my elbows (my hands were busy) on the wall of the stall, then I cried out, "Oh god.  Oh god, there's BLOOD!"  I think that's what did it.  I heard a rattle of TP roll, the bang of a stall door and retreating footsteps.  She didn't even stop to wash her hands.

Yeah.  I can be like that sometimes.