A-gassed at the Breakfast Table


It’s that damn alarm already.
I just fell asleep. Wake up, get up. I got up and took a shower.
I got dressed and took my medicines.
Oh shit! I just took my sleeping pill and a power laxative pill.

I cook for 25 old ladies at a nursing home, and, instead of flipping pancakes,
I’m dozing off on the toilet. Lorreta, my assistant, is banging on the door.
“Stephen, What is the matter with you?”

Breakfast is thirty minutes late, and the ladies are pissed.
I eat at the main table after breakfast is served, and, not only did I fall asleep again, it was reported to my supervisor that I farted loudly and snored. I explained to her that I accidentally took a sleeping pill and a laxative instead of the proper pills. She said that she didn’t care if I took anthrax– if I ever pass gas in the dining room again, that would be my last day.

She said that I had issues and I better deal with them. I now put my reading glasses on whenever dealing with my medicines, and, when eating with the old ladies, my manners are impeccable. I did have to apologize to the whole group, though. I told them that I had a stomach problem that day, it was nothing catching, and I was sorry.


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