Monday, March 15, 2010

Deuce

Caution :  This post includes descriptions of fecal matter.  Sensitive individuals are strongly advised to skip today's writing and reread a past post which can be chosen on the right-hand side of the page.  I recommend Manny Coon, by Mystery Guy.  It is one of my favorites!


When my wife, son and I dine out it is usually at Rice, a Japanese restaurant in Dover.  It is a small place with nice atmosphere, good food and a great staff.  We go there so often that the waitstaff knows our orders by heart.
My wife had yoga class on a recent evening, so I decided to take my son to Rice for dinner, kind of a "guys night out."  Our waiter took our order (he is a dead-ringer for a young Beat Takeshi)  and my son and I were having a pleasant time when I excused myself to use the restroom.

Second Warning:  This is when the post gets a little sketchy in writing topic selection.  Proceed with caution.


I entered the empty restroom.  Rice is a decent place and their bathrooms are kept impeccably clean. I checked myself in the mirror and proceeded to unzip my pants to urinate.  I glanced down into the toilet to sight-aim and was instantly horrified by what I found.  Some miscreant..... hooligan....... social deviant had left what amounted to domestic terrorism in the toilet bowl.  The deuces were wild.  

An involuntary shiver went up my spine.  There are few things in life that I can not stomach.  Looking at another's solid waste makes my top three.  I gained my composure and flushed the toilet,  awaiting for Exhibit A of TERRIBLE THINGS TO DO TO ANOTHER HUMAN BEING to begin its journey to the  Dover Sewage Treatment Center.
Therein lies the rub, dear friends.  This bastard - this contemptible piece of s#$% (literally) - would not flush down!  It had anchored itself to the side of the bowl like a mollusk to the side of a ship's hull.  I could be wrong, but I swear it was staring at me, too.

I was disgusted.  I decided that I would just have to wait until I got home to use the restroom.  I zipped up my pants, started to exit the bathroom and.......and I realized that if I walked out at that moment and that horrid thing was left there, the next person who entered would think I was responsible.


I felt the heat of panic slowly flush my face.  Even though I had nothing to do with this debacle, I would be known as That Guy.  We dine here weekly, for God's sakes!  I would be unjustly branded as the non-flushing destroyer of all things good, the bathroom bomber.  I pictured the scowl that would greet me each time in the future I entered the front door.  I could hear the whispers in Japanese and the quick head nods directed my way.  It would be a shame I could not endure.  I had to erase the scene of this crime that I did not commit.

It was now MacGyver time.  I scanned the room to see what kind of supplies I had to end this:

Toilet Paper - Yeah!  I can get a big wad together and wipe it free from the porcelain side and then flush it into the abyss....
Negative.  First, it was below the water line, meaning the paper would be a soggy mess before I got near the foul thing and second, my hands were going nowhere near it.

Mirror - I could pull the mirror free from the wall, create a diversion ......
Sweet Jesus, man, I needed to focus and stay in this fight!

Tiny beads of sweat were starting to form on my brow.  I was defeated.  There was no way out of this.  I resolved myself to walking out in shame as an innocent man convicted - a dead man walking.

That is when the winning idea struck me and it was not a pleasant one.  I knew for a fact that it would work, but I trembled when I realized what must be done.  I took one deep breath, steadied myself, and unzipped my dungarees.  I tightly contracted my abdominal muscles, set my inner-pressure valves on high and hit the monster full force with a mighty stream of urine.

The little mutant put up a good fight at first, but then I rejoiced when it slowly began to slide down as the stream cut it from the smooth surface.  I quickly pushed the handle down and a satisfying whirlpool whisked away the offending glob into the nothingness.  Relief washed over me.  The crisis was averted.

I cleaned up and confidently exited the bathroom with my head held high.  Max and I collected our things and paid the bill.  As we exited the establishment and stepped into the night air, I imagined that the  people of Rice watched us leave and whispered in Japanese to one another, "There they go.  The best family that ever was."






6 comments:

  1. Damn funny post...I literally LOL'd on that mollusk metaphor....
    Hilarious!

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  2. Oh that's twisted. Fantastic.

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  3. That, my friend, is perhaps the funniest blog posting I have ever read. Talk about resourceful; you must come out at the top of the heap at those corporate survival games. By the way, if you ever encounter the "problem" again, you can always use one of your stogies (which no doubt you carry with you to enjoy after dining at a fine restaurant.)
    Another BTW, your solution wouldn't work for me. When you reach 68 years of age, the pee stream doesn't have that youthful force. It is somewhere between a weak stream and a dribble. The "miscreant" would win.

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  4. Never surrender, Ron. Breaking the mirror or starting a fire may not be the best options, but they are still options.

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  5. As they say @#%& happens. Never pleasant to confront it face to face. But you stepped not in it, but up to the, uh, bomb and defused the situation. However, keep in mind things could always be worse.

    My son has reported instances of finding, in the customer bathroom where he works, such a deposit in the men's room urinal and in the ladies (and I use the term loosely) sink.

    Ok, MacGyver, what would you improvise to defeat the stool in the sink? Or would you simply slink out hoping no one came immediately in to associate you with the former miscreant. But you have a conscience, I know, and would not wish to see some other innocent to shoulder the blame.

    Another great post.

    Larry

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  6. Larry - That one goes way beyond MacGyver. I would either report that immediately to the manager or pull the fire alarm.

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