Smoke Breaks and Wooden Benches

I consider myself to be a decently healthy person with decently healthy tendencies; one of those being a regular morning BM. I know what you're thinking, "Okay, we're off to a good start." That's what I always say to myself too. During the week I work from 6am to the butt-crack of noon or so. Since I can't arrange my social life and sleep schedule around an appropriate bed time for this shift, my body's internal processes usually don't have a chance to catch up before I have to leave for work. Don't worry though, everything happens in due time.

Several hours into my shift the time always comes. I ask my manager if I may take a few minutes or so to go for a smoke break. They always say, "You smoke?" I reply, "No, it's a polite euphemism for taking care of bathroom business." Too much information? Too bad, I'm just getting the toilet seat warmed up for ya.

All of about three of us were sitting in the back room of a cafe spread out well enough, or so I thought. A large L-shaped wooden bench seat runs the length of the back wall. A young lady and I sat somewhere to the tune of ten feet apart. We were both working on our computers, respectively, when I felt an undeniable vibration. I looked for my phone. It was in my pocket, and had not rung. I looked down the line at the girl, still feverishly typing away, only to see her phone resting on the table, not the bench seat. Trying to further investigate the situation without causing a scene, I noticed the crumbly remnants of a muffin (banana nut) and Cholula sauce...? Hot sauce on a muffin, WTF mate?

My first inclination was to send a retaliation shot reverberating back at her; not having had my smoke break yet today though, considered this to be too risky of a move. Damnit! Instead, I sat vexed over the dangerous compromising situation she left me cornered in. To this bizarre bean ripping ass down the bench from me: 1. that's messed up, and 2. you know who you are...