I once worked with a dude at the dealer what was seriously morbidly obese (like 600+ lbs). Super nice guy, pretty talented but absolutely stank.
I was taking a duece in the locker room handicapped stall. I hear duder walk in. I know it's him because his shoes squeaked like a pair of water shoes whenever he walked by. I hear the squeaking and then see 4 fat fingers grab the top of the stall door. "Whoa, Nellie" I proclaim. "One at a time in here". Dude opens the regular size stall door next to and proceeds to waddle in. Picture a 160" WB rig making the turn at the entrance to 9 at Tellico. Forward, back. Forward, back. Go for it!
My eyes are ripe with both fear and amazement that he made it to the toilet. I hear the unzipping of pants and in a singular motion the stall wall to my right move a good 6" towards me at the same time he drops the equivalent of both Hiroshima and Nagasaki a mere 3 feet away.
I sat there in amazement and awe. However, once the bombay doors closed, he immediately suited up and waddled away. I never heard the spinning of the TP holder. I suspected dude couldn't wipe his own butt and my theory was supported that day.
We had a tech meeting that same day at lunch and when dude walked in the meeting room, it was filled with the aroma of vile, untempered ass. We all looked around in sheer disgust knowing the culprit.
Dude was sent home early that day for reasons of poor hygiene.
