Owner of a very hip successful business. Has a lock on the market he plays in. Lunches at very good Italian bistros. About clears a bottle of some Tavola Rossa after sitting under the sun on one of those make shift patios. It doesn’t make NY feel European but in a way it has started to feel natural at this point, but this isn’t part of the story. This is about my boss. So after long a lunch and a dozen phone calls he has to meet someone at this new sheik yet humble Omakase restaurant. Sippin whatever clear liquor on the rocks, bite of raw fish, another drink. This goes on into the night.
When he gets home he slips out of his clothes and into his white sheet million thread count linen cool to the touch sheets. The alcohol metabolizes and he wakes up. Hardly a full night of sleep but business is business and he throws his AirPods on. He hops onto his Trek carbon fiber road bike and makes the trek from Brooklyn over to the lower east side. He quit drinking coffee but gets hot water from the dispenser and makes him self a cup of green tea. Yapping about auction prices and slowly sipping the hot beverage he feels something slither inside his bowels. He politely asks the client if he can call him back because there is another call on the line he has to take.
He opens the rest room door, unbuckles his belt, slides down his trousers swiftly and presses his cheeks to the toilet seat. Simultaneously his rectum loosens and a wave of wet shit streams out of his asshole into the bowl. The digested fried sun choke salad from lunch, the broken down raw fish marinated in red wine/mezcal/and sake fill the white porcelain vessel. He is careful to wipe all the shit from his ass and pinch any dingle berries from his ass hairs. He pulls up his trousers zips up his pants, buckles the belt, washes his hands, and proceeds to return the phone call.