Photo Credit: www.fineartamerica.com
Sometimes, the human body has no understanding of convenience. It's an autonomous, ticking machine that calculates each second of our lives while we observe in awe. Millions of signals are sent throughout the complex network of electrical nodes in our system to help us perceive the world we live in. Even though our intricate brains have come together to determine acceptable patterns of behavior, the body is still primal with urges and reflexes beyond our limited control. Although our mind discerns the appropriate time to fulfill certain duties, we still are at the unbending will of our urges.
Sometimes those urges put us in predicaments that are unavoidable, which brings me to the greatest saving grace mankind has ever developed. It's curved exterior and clear liquid pool are easy on the eyes, while the soft rushing water of a well deserved flush is music to the ears. When you see the signs, and your body is loosing control, it's the safe haven for humanity.
I was in need of one of these portals when the glorious sign hung firmly above a nearby storefront. At last, I said to myself as I walked in and shut the door. After doing what needed to be done, I was ready to take on the world once more. This throne would be missing it's temporary ruler, but I had to go back to the world beyond the white washed cells of this peaceful asylum.
With a firm push of my outstretched palm, I could hear the rushing waters flushing away beneath me. It was a truly satisfying experience. The swish of liquid mixed with the deep rumble of the bowl being refilled was a symphony to my soul. This was my friend, I thought to myself as I started to rise from my seat of sanitation.
A gentle tug at my pants brought them to their assigned seat when suddenly...I knew something wasn't right. They were dry when I walked in. My eyes traced down my shocked body to the jeans at my waist. I gently lowered them a bit to see the backside. This wasn't good. My jeans were blue before...but not that dark. Or wet.
I dropped them to the ground and looked around to find out what could have caused this catastrophe...when suddenly I knew. While I was focusing on the intense pleasure of the flushing, I was attacked. The wet, scarred fabric of my once clean blue jeans was rinsed by the disgraceful shower of a cracked commode. To put it simply, the toilet was having trouble. Since I don't commit to fifteen point inspections before doing my duty, I didn't see the tiny cracks in the porcelain.
Ah great, I thought to myself as I tried to dry off the offending stain with toilet paper. No use. My eyes glared at my once faithful friend. How could you? I asked the silent bowl as I squished my way out the door. My hands loosely tied the belt to my waist, so that my jeans did not cause me any further embarrassment. It's one thing to feel the soggy slap of wet jeans against the rear, but it's quite another for the innocent civilians of a public place to see it. I will not explain further.
As I slowly sloshed my way across the bright bathroom, I realized that I almost forgot to wash my hands. I faced the mirror and turned to look at the marked area. It was painfully noticeable. What's my girlfriend going to say? I thought to myself as I sighed. Well, it's too late to worry about it now. After rinsing my hands for a few seconds, I reached over to the soap dispenser.
I didn't realize until that moment that the toilet was not the only aggressor in this lavatory. With a soft press of the handle, a puff of white goo erupted from the bowels of the sink onto my left leg. A gooey, dripping mass slid down my pants as I attempted to wash it away. I should have realized that soap reacts to water. After trying to scrub the soap off my jeans, I realized that I had lathered the denim. Not only were my jeans wet, but now they were bubbly. Little suds slid down my leg, while some inflated in little orbs of air on my pants. Great, I thought to myself as I dried it off with a towel.
With one last look in the mirror, a giant exhale escaped my lungs. Now it looked even worse. The seat of my pants were soaked from the traumatic toilet experience, and the front was assaulted by a soap machine gone haywire. In the back of my mind I could imagine the sink and the commode laughing as I left their domain in shame. I had to go out to face the world, but not in the way I intended.
I wasn't leaving with pride at the job well accomplished, of my duties fulfilled with my head held high. No, I left in shame and realized something that I never thought of before this moment. When I finally met my girlfriend, she met me with beautiful, concerned brown eyes.
"Baby, are you okay?", she asked softly.
I paused for a moment, trying to think of a way to respond to that question. Inside I felt like I was being bullied by a bathroom, but I knew I was stronger than that. In a few brief seconds, I had my answer.
"Baby...I'm a soggy bottom boy." I smiled and walked with her out into the world together. I may have squished and squeaked my way through the rest of the day, but I was happy. Nothing in life can keep me down forever. Not even a treacherous toilet experience.