I was working on the build of a high school in Keller back around ‘98 when I had the most awful, shitty experience. Tons of illegals working on this job...so the # of workers reported was far less than the number actually working on-site. This led to there being only two porta-shitters brought in to be split between about 300 working men. Mostly Hispanic. With one roach-coach slapping out REAL Mexican food, all day long. You know what I’m talking about. In 100°+ heat. So, I get me some menudo and a couple street tacos and, inevitably, have to make a run to the shitter. There’s a line. Seemed like I waited for days but was probably just a minute or two. It did give me opportunity to work in some major butt-flex exercise, at least. Finally, the indicator on the door slides from red to green. It’s my turn. Thank you Jesus! Help me take three steps, half-turn and drop trou before my butthole gives out. I get in that stanky sumbitch and there ain’t no turd paper, shit is plum to the bottom of the seat. It barely even has a hint of that blue liquid deodorizer left working. At this point, all the diarrhea, semi-solid deuces and the occasional floating log have turned what once looked a lot like Bora Bora into what now resembled a goats ass in College Station. I was gonna have to hover. As soon as I started dropping my drawers, I was blowing shit everywhere. Seemed to be the trendy thing to do. Flies were all up on my face and nose...one of them even stuck his shit-covered paws right up in my nostril. Stanky, big time. Hard to breathe. Finally got my ass and legs cleaned up alright when I felt a good solid turd coming to salvage a little dignity. That sucker came in like a wrecking ball! A cannonball!!! Splashed everybody’s shit all up on my ass. The worst part...I felt it splash all up on my butthole. I spiraled into terrible depression for about six months. I’m better now, most days.