older while others hold grudges. Some feel like they need to confess
before they meet their Maker and yet others will go to the grave with
all of it
Years ago when I was still in my twenties and the world still looked
up, I found myself in the bathroom of a girl I was dating. Having had
too much wheat beer the night before, I was met with an awful dilemma:
stink up the bathroom or try to make a run for it to the nearest diner
or bodega. I knew I did not have a lot of time, so opted for the
former, knowing I'd probably spend twenty minutes in there sweating
while burning matches, spraying perfume and repeatedly flushing.
I dreaded the inevitable "are you ok in there" question, which always
comes when you are first dating somebody. The problem was, like most
apartments in NYC, there was one bathroom and as she was in her mid
twenties, she was sharing the apartment (and bathroom) with a roommate
or two. So now, here I am locked in a four by four room, with no easy
escape route and worst yet a stomach doing flips. Even still, I had
no problems doing my business and as I stood up I noticed this was not
the kind that would easily flush especially cause I piled a small free
worth of toilet paper into it afterwards
I flushed and prayed that I wouldn't cause a flood, and as I saw it
start to struggle, I reached in with bare hands and pulled away half
the amazon rain forest. Luckily, after a couple of hiccups, the
toilet took and I was out of the woods. The stench still hovered and
I burned a pack or two of matches which only made the small room smell
like sulfuric ass juice. It was like 8am -which back then felt like
5am- and figured nobody would be up, so I decide to wait out the
stink.
I picked up a copy of Marie Claire noticing an article about some dude
working in White Plains who tried to seek out chicks willing to allow
the five hole
I sprayed some perfume, which only made the place smell like
strawberry sulfur wheat beer soggy dog but I have time.
And then comes the knock...
"You ok in there?"
"Yeah, just deleting some contacts on my Razr"
"Ok, let me know if you need something"
"Sure, be out in two minutes"
I get up but have trouble standing because m legs fall asleep sitting
for so long. I can hardly stand, the stench is overpowering and I am
convinced the hairspray I tried to use to cover it up had made me
high.
Knock
"You coming out?"
I clean myself up, look in the mirror and take a deep breath. look
down to make sure all is clean and horrified to notice that I've left
massive streaks all over the bowl. I'm talking Indianapolis 500 type
streaks which run from the top of the porcelain all the way to the
bottom.
Knock knock
"(Redacted) really has to go to the bathroom, can you come out"
All the burning matches must have hardened the streaks like a curing
oven and even four or five more flushes wasn't removing it.
I search frantically for a brush, but can't find one.
Knock Knock
"Righetti, are you ok?"
WHO THE HELL DOESN'T HAVE A TOILET BRUSH, THEY COST $1.99 AT THE
HARDWARE STORE!!!!
"Hello?!?"
So here I am, completely desperate, soaked in sweat, breathing in
sulfur and some Christian Dior ripoff perfume and staring at my ass
remnants smeared on like a three year old's painting
Knock knock know
"(redacted) is going to get a UTI"
I am desperate, so do what any overweight dude who never gets laid
would; grab a random toothbrush out of the bin, shove my hand deep
into the toilet, holding my breath and rubbing it clean better than
any dentist could have
I rinse my hands, dry them on the roommates face towel and walk out
looking like I just ran the marathon.
Did you consider simply closing the toilet lid so that no one could see or smell the shit stains streaking the sides?
ReplyDeleteThat would have worked, too.
And then you would haven't had to stick your fingers, hands, and arms all over the toilet shit stains of you, that girl, her roommate, and the 20 dudes who were having rotating sex with that roommate at the time.
Just sayin'.