Sunday, August 21, 2011
As per habit, I stopped by Starbucks this morning before what was to be an amazing motorcycle ride. Lot's of coffee and a long ride ahead meant I had to make sure I went to that bathroom before I left.
Oh great, the door was locked. I waited and I waited, not a good sign. She was in there a LONG time. It wasn't gonna be good when she left I was certain.
Finally she walked by and I was so very glad I had put on Chanel No. 5 lotion before leaving this morning. You know when you get in a bathroom that smells a great perfume or lotion up to the nose is the ONLY way to make it through without totally puking.
Sure enough. Hands to the nose. Problem solved. Well it was solved until I looked into the toilet. ::gagging here::
I'll just say that she really should have waited to make sure everything was whisked away. Oh Holy Mother of God, I was about to lose the lemon loaf I'd just consumed.
"Breathe, just breathe." My hands were in use, they were not coming away from my face, so I flushed the toilet with my foot. I totally can't pee with someone's poop floating around in the toilet.
Guess what wanted to hang around just to make my day complete? Yep, you've got it. It was the poop that wouldn't go down. So I foot flushed again, and again the, ahem, shit came right back up. I was getting the feeling the day was so gonna suck.
I foot flushed again, there was no way on Earth I was going to smell anything, especially if I had to look at it too. There it went, going, going, gone. Uh, not. It came back! The damn stuff came right back up!
If I didn't have such a long ride ahead of me and if I didn't have to pee so badly I would have left. I wasn't in the mood to watch unnamed lady's reappearing poop.
I foot flushed again and there it wen.....not so fast. It was back. "Oh please God," I thought, "please, please let it go away this time." This time we actually made progress, it was half in and half out.
I foot flushed again and again. Finally, I swear, on about the 11th or 12th flush it was finally gone. I watched to make sure it wasn't going to magically reappear. It was gone, it was really gone.
Now for my next task. How in the hell was I going to get my belt undone, my chaps undone, my zipper and pants down with my hands up to my nose? And if, just if, I could get all that done, how was I supposed to get it all put back together with my hands at my face?
Let's just say it wasn't the best Diva day. Oh, and Jolene, tell Tim the damn toilet is a piece of crap!