The urinals where I work are far too low. They were installed as if it were an elementary school. When expelling bodily fluids in a low urinal with a quick and steady stream, it creates a lot of back splash. Basically you end up smelling like a hobo.
So I sit down to pee at work. It gives me an opportunity to pull out my phone, check Facebook and lament the fact that the Carolina Panthers are destined to always SUCK. On this particular day I was chewing gum. The gum having lost its flavor, I simply widened my stance and spit the gum out between my legs into the toilet.
Or so I thought.
About thirty minutes later, I felt what can only be described as funkiness in my crotch. I went back to the bathroom and saw that the white, sticky stuff (the GUM!) was everywhere. The warmth and moisture from moving around had created quite a mess among my man-scaped pubes. Pulling at it proved to be a futile and painful idea. Since there is no peanut butter in the mens room (usually), I was stuck.
As a brother and fellow man, surely my boss would understand my need to go home and take care of this situation. I pleaded my case.
Just like that. I was subjected to many more hours of walking around with gum stuck to my pubes. It really makes for an odd walk. Add in the hearing aids and glasses and, undoubtedly, people thought I was a special needs hire that the company would be compensated for.
That’s how I now have the scrotum of a 10 year old.