A Woman in Man Zone.
Back in the day a men’s washroom was where men
pee’d, poo’d, farted and boasted about all the women they didn’t actually screw. This is the sanctuary for men to do all the things we’re not allowed to do in front of the women folk, because it’s a men’s room.
A men’s room as in no women allowed. You women have your own room to insert your tampons and quiff and poot or whatever it is you do.
So imagine my surprise, as I’m at the urinal with my dick in my hands, when a woman come into OUR room.
And yes, I did say dick in my HANDS. I have the opposite problem of moooooog. It’s a nice problem to have.
But back to the topic at hand.
Ha! Topic at HAND.
You see what I did there?
Anyways.
There are WOMEN in the mens room and I got my cock out. It’s not like I can stuff it back in my pants because I’m peeing at the time.
You CANNOT stop midstream. That’s impossible. Well you can, but it feels like a billion bee’s poking at your bladder, just about ready to sting you to death.
So naturally, I FREAK! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING IN HERE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM NOW!
Actually, my reaction was more along the lines of ‘ummmm?’.
Yea, I’m such a hard ass.
I mean, if she was hot I might have risked the sexual harresment charge. Hey, she was invading man territory, and that sends a clear signal.
Just as clear as a woman wearing a push up bra and a low cut top. When she gets pissed at you looking down her cleavage, what she’s really saying is “I’ll meet you behind the bleachers later. Bring a condom”.
But she did not look hot at all. She was UGLY. She looked like mooogs therapist. Mooog has a picture of his therapist, so you can understand what I’m talking about.
Thank you mooog, your graphics make it easy.
So I say “ummm?”
She screams and leaves.
Apparently, the building manager was hosting a walk through so cleaning people could bid on the contract. Apparently this woman thought the men’s room was empty, despite the building being full of over caffinated engineering types.
Silly, silly girl.
If there’s a moral to this story, I guess it’s this:
Always carry a domer in your wallet just in case the english as a second language cleaning lady walks in on you draining the main vein and she’s actually hot.
And carry a stun gun in case she looks like moooogs therapist and still wants some.
‘Nuff said.
