by Jonathan Dy The cool evening air accompanied me on my way to work that August day as I sulked in the thoughts of another night wasted closing the videostore. I wondered what customers I'd encounter on this night and what situations they'd present me with but by no means was I prepared for the coming evening's events. The closing shift started off smoothly, interrupted by many a customer's whining and sighs of disapproval, I dealt with them accordingly, being an asshole to the assholes and a cool dude to the cool dudes, all in a regular night's work... Until The Clock Struck 10! It is here where this excruciatingly true story is to begin...   I was twenty minutes into my fifteen minute break when I was called upon by a co-worker of mine to kindly show someone to the washroom in the back store. I walked out and asked the man to follow me to the back. After walking ten paces, I turn around to see him standing in the very same place. I motioned him to follow me and he acknowledged with a smile, a smile of desperation. I knew right away what kinda case I was dealing with... I knew this guy really had to go. I showed him to the washroom and stood guard (as was required when customers use our shittery). Seven minutes into his long anticipated adventure, I began to wonder if he had survived it. Sure enough, he came out, but with caution displayed on his face.   He approached me and said: "Shuowing Dang Tsing Woohaa Battabing Battaboom." Or something like that. Just because I'm a man of the Orient, it doesn't mean that I can understand all languages and dialects, as this man probably thought. On a good day, I'll be lucky to understand french (which I have been learning now for fifteenish years). My response to his Asian attack on me was to throw my hands in the air, shake my head and go: "wha.... I have no idea what you just said".   "You have a... (makes a plunger motion)?" he reiterated as he pointed to the toilet bowl. Not really thinking, I take a sneak peak at the bowl and saw the water level at its peak before exploverflowsion. But that's not what caught my eye. What did in fact catch my attention was the chocolate covered surprises he disposed of as they floated about in a whirlpool of foul emissions. A peculiar scent hit me like a sock full of marbles to the groinular area. It was then that I ran into the office to look for a plunger. The office conveniently smelled a little better than the washroom facility, so it was there where I found shelter from the horrifying odor, for at least a few seconds. I came out and said in a surprised tone "oh there's no plunger in there". So we stood there in silence thinking of what we could do, even though it wasn't really my problem as much as it was his. Come to think of it, I don't know why we stood there in those harsh conditions when we could have moved to cleaner air.   Finally, to resolve the whole situation, I told him with my infinite wisdom "well, uhhh... I think it's broken so we'll have to have it fixed." So he put the toilet seat down, closed the light and air vent and left the back store, I turned the air vent back on and left.   I returned to my post at the cash and the very next customer I served was that very same man from the orient. He seemed a tad more relaxed than before though. Mr. Yin was his name and Mr. Yin had a couple of late fees. I also noticed that Mr. Yin had rented movies of the pornographic type. Not one, not two but three adult films. This led me to wonder if this guy had any sense of embarrassment at all in his field of emotions (okay, honestly, I really care not what type of films this guy, or anyone at all rents, I'm just saying that under these conditions, I wouldn't even think of renting those cuz then some bastard-ass writer guy can make fun of me in one of his shitty articles that billions of his adoring fans read). I mean, not only does he clog our toilets, pollute our air and water, but he rents three fucking pornos five minutes after the clogging occurred. (I can't believe the word fucking passes spellcheck... but spellcheck doesn't pass the spellcheck... spell check... okay two separate words it must be.)   Yeah so Mr. Yin rented his "films" and quietly left the store as I wondered who, just who was to clean the floating treats left behind my Mr. Yin. I also wondered just how much time was left before the oncoming stench was to invade the entire store's air supply (hey, isn't that the plot of some sci-fi movie?).   Once again folks, I demonstrated my ability to remain calm in an uncomforting predicament. This shows the very way in which one should act in an awkward situation. A model citizen I may be, but that does not mean that I don't fear other public cloggers out there, in fact I fear 'em everywhere I go. Nowadays, I stare into an empty toilet bowl... but deep inside my mind, all I can visualize is a bowl of chocolate covered treats waltzing within a dungy bowl of urinary discharge. I see... the face of Mr. Yin! Our hero still is a member of the Videotron staff and battles hard everyday trying to forget about the ghosts of Mr. Yin that still haunt him... the ghosts left behind by Mr. Yin that humid august eve.