It all began with lunch. The wife and I go to eat dim sum. Delicious. Then we call my cousin and let her know that we're stopping by to say hello. You know, to meet my newborn nephew. Being the gracious hosts that they are, and despite telling them that we already ate lunch, my cousin's husband goes out and buys pizza. And Popeye's chicken.
So, even though we already ate lunch, we eat pizza. And Popeye's chicken. And cookies. And ice cream. What am I supposed to do? Spit on their food? So now, with two meals in my stomach, we go to Square One to get our shop on. Walking around Wal-mart, I get the call ... the war against defecation begins.
I quickly waddle over to the washroom. There's a sign hanging over the door: Washroom closed. Fuck. The next closest washroom is down the stairs, by People's Jewellers. This shit's coming out, man! I finally make it down the stairs, into the men's washroom, and there are 3 stalls. All occupied. WTF? This has never happened to me before! The guy using the handicapped stall finally relinquishes control. He has an evil look in his eye.
Defecation: 1 Al: 0