The Wonder Turd, Jan. 17th, 2025

The Wonder Turd, January 17th, 2025

Back in the early 1980s, in the days before computers and cell phones, I lived in Edmonds, Washington which abutted Seattle on its northern border. I worked at Kenmore Air Harbor on Lake Washington as a seaplane mechanic. My friends, Rick and Kim, worked at Blue Cross of Washington in the print shop. We were all from Nebraska and in our early thirties.

On Friday’s we’d meet at a Mexican restaurant in Lynnwood, have some nachos, and drink some Tecate beers. We’d share stories of our work week.

On this Friday, Rick and Kim told me the story of the Wonder Turd at Blue Cross.

Rick: I go down the hall to the toilets to take my morning shit and open the stall door. There in the toilet is a perfectly coiled turd, completely filling the bowl. Its end was pointed and stuck up just above the seat rim.

Kim: I hear Rick yelling, “Hey, come look at this!” We both stood there in amazement, gazing in awe at the Wonder Turd.

Rick: I went back to the print shop and printed out a big sign, “LOOK BUT DON’T FLUSH!”

Kim: We called every floor of the building to tell folks about the Wonder Turd.

Rick: There was a line out the door of the lavatory. One guy took photos with an Instamatic camera. I wish I’d had a Polaroid.

Kim: Folks were coming through the room all day.

Me: So, what happened to the Wonder Turd?

Rick: The next day, when we came back to work, it was gone.

Kim: Must have given the janitor a heart attack.

Me: Any idea who made the Wonder Turd?

Rick: I have a good idea. There’s a 350 pound guy up on the third floor in the Claims Department. He never came down to see the Wonder Turd.

And with that, we returned to eating our nachos and drinking our Tecates.

Tim