Shitty Stories

Many years ago, my brother Peter and I went out with some friends to Max's Opera House Cafe in San Francisco. We all ate a sh*tload (excuse the pun) and if you've ever been to Max's, you know you have to have the strawberry shortcake for dessert. Each "slice" is basically a whole cake pan, slathered in whipped cream and a whole basket of strawberries. Being young and gluttonous, we all got one and despite being full even before dessert was ordered, we packed it in. That said, we paid up with the waiter, loosened our belts and headed over the the bookstore next door, aptly named "A Clean Well Lighted Place for Books." We all hung out there for a while, reading books, magazines, etc until I felt a piercing pain in my gut. Did I mention I'm lactose intolerant? Did I mention I'm also masochistic and can't avoid cream?! In a cold sweat, I ditch my magazine and run back to Max's past the line of people waiting straight for the men's room. Inside the bathroom a quick survey of the situation reveals my horror. Two urinals, one stall, and it's occupied, by someone wearing the same shoes as my brother. He's doing a jackson pollock to the stall and laughing his ass off when he hears me moaning. "Use the sink!" he says. I'm practically crying I'm in so much pain. "You got to get out of there!" I plead with him. "But I'm not done yet." he chuckles. Being geeks, we agree to "Round Robin" (take turns) splattering the stall. It wasn't pretty, and I'm sure we revolted any bystanders, which there were, but we were suffering tunnel vision. Turns out my brother was also lactose intolerant, felt the same pain in the bookstore and beat my by a couple seconds to the stall. I'm proud to report, that all underwear survived the incident (we'll get into those stories later) and that we needed only two rotations in the stall to finish everything up. Thankfully the sink went unscathed. Props to Max's for serving up some serious whipped cream on the shortcake, The bookstore for always being there when we have gas, and any innocent bystanders we may have hurt. Peter and Paul