Bathroom Etiquette - Warning, explicit material may be offensive to some.

This morning, you decide to eat a big breakfast. It's your favorite, and best of all, ya didn't even have to cook it. Eggs, sausage, grits (with cheese), it's The Works! You thank your spouse profusely as you walk out the door and drop off the kid. Steaming hot coffee in one hand, smile on your greasy lips, and a now grumbling full tummy protruding from above your waist band, you parade into the office. Aside from the guilt you are experiencing from eating so many calories at breakfast an hour ago, the day has begun in a most delightful way.
  You're reading your third email of the day, and the grumbling turns into a churning, and the noise echoing past the cubicle walls actually catches the attention of your co-worker, so you politely (and carefully) excuse yourself to the staff restroom.
  You think, oh god, what time is it? Oh, it's too early for break time, and in general right around this time, fellow colleagues are stationed and settled in their respective spots. OK, you think, I should probably have it all to myself. You let your guard down, relax a little, throw open the door; no one at the sink. You continue to scan the place for human feet showing from underneath the stall doors.
  First stall: empty. Good, that's my stall.
  Second stall: empty. Good, no one right next door.
  Third and final stall (probably empty...) no. Curses! And you don't want to look too long because it is better to not recognize the person in case they are having a worse time than you. And good god, you hope they aren't.
  You quietly back track into the first stall, realizing that the person in stall 3 IS in fact having a hard time. A poot here, a squirt there, a grunt here and a few rolls of the toilet paper, but you don't know if that's just a noise distraction device, or are they, heaven forbid, actually using that much toilet paper for this job? You evaluate how long you can delay your duties without seeming creepy, because you know she knows you're there. You know that she knows that you know she's there. And both of you know you're the only ones in the room. If you don't sit and pee soon, she might think you're having the same awful problem she's having. And even though you are very aware that every person in this world has to take a horrible shit sometimes, at this moment, who ever this is who is here, now in some weird stand off with you, is the last person you want to know about your bowel problems.
  So it begins. You sit down, force yourself to pee (first), trying desperately to hold anything else back, for now. You listen. She's quiet now, too.
  You cough, that should buy a second or two. You grab a little bit of toilet paper, hoping the sound of the dispenser will make it seem like you are simply getting prepared to finish up the job that is soon to be complete. You sit.
  She's still quiet.
  Finally, your stomach screams Let It Out!! and it does, and you try as hard as you can to continue to hold back as much as possible, until finally, you hear her toilet flush. You quickly come to your senses and use this perfect opportunity to get it all done in the four second time span that it takes for the noise of the toilet in the 3rd stall to empty. You squeeze your eyes closed and concentrate, because you know you're going to have to  come back to reality as soon as the flush is over. And in the back of your head, you think: the stand off is over. I can relax now (quietly) until she has finished washing her hands, and just ride the wave until you hear her open that door.
  The door opens. Yes.
  "Hi, there." you hear her say.
  "Oh, hello, pardon me." you hear another voice, followed by a slamming stall door number 2.
  You finish your job quickly, now that your new opponent has begun a new race. But this time, you're ahead. You can do whatever you want (as long as your feet can't be seen), and still have time to wash your hands.
  Quickly, you scoot out the door, not taking time to dry your hands, and you have made it home free.