Business Trip

I’ve just returned from a business trip. It seems like I’ve been traveling a lot for work lately. Four flights in the past five weeks. It’s getting a bit old.

When I travel for business I always pack a pair of jeans. I don’t get to wear them during the trip, as the meetings I attend always call for business attire. But when I get to the airport for the flight home, I duck into the men’s room and change from my dress slacks into my jeans. It makes the flight home more comfortable, signals to me that that business is over, and I can finally relax.

But this little routine of mine took an unexpected twist this time.

I walked into the men’s room at the Minneapolis airport to change my pants. I went into one of the stalls, shut the door and set my bag down. As I turned, the toilet flushed. I turned and noticed this stall had one of those motion-detected flushing systems. Those are nice – you don’t have to touch a handle and you don’t have to worry that the guy who used the stall before you left you a nasty surprise.

The stall was rather narrow. I slipped out of my dress pants and hung them on the hook on the inside of the door. That movement caused the toilet to flush again. I reached down and pulled my jeans out of my carry-on bag – and the toilet flushed again. I stepped into my jeans, began to pull them up – and the toilet flushed again.

I’m not really paying attention to this, just trying to change my pants and catch my flight. As I button my jeans, the toilet flushed again. And then I hear a man’s voice outside the stall say, “Man, that guy must be having a real problem.”

It takes me a second before I realize he’s talking about me. All of the flushing – the guy must think I’m sick, have diarrhea, or having a particularly bad time on the john. As I reach down to put my dress slacks into my carry-on, the toilet flushed again.

“Jeez,” says another voice. There must be two guys out there.

So I turn back to the toilet and wave my hand in front of the sensor. Flush.

“This must be a bad one,” I hear the first guy say.

I wave my hand again. Flush.

I moan a little bit. Wave my hand again. Flush.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” the first guy says.

“I’m…” wave the hand again. Flush “…uh, uh okay…”

“Let’s go,” says the second guy. “I don’t need to hear this before getting on a plane.”

I hear them leave.

When I got home I told the story to MBW. We both had a chuckle over it.

I wonder what stories the other guys told?

It’s Great to be The Family Man.

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