C-ya, dignity

The thing I love about toilets, is that they only require occasional maintenance. The thing I hate about toilets, is the occasional maintenance that they require is a real pain in the ass. And typically involves the installation or removal of a toilet seat. Which sucks because, I don't care how well you clean it nor how often, it never feels okay to get real intimate with a toilet.

A sober person never feels okay wrapping his or her arms around a toilet, fiddling around with the super long plastic screws. When puking into it, mind clouded in a hazy fog, the last thing an inebriated person probably thinks about is who was pissing there last. The first thing a person thinks about when unscrewing those screws is ALL of the people pissing there last.

My toilet has been slowly breaking over the last few weeks. One of the two arms connecting the seat to the porcelain broke about 2 weeks ago, which made for a pretty wonkey sitting experience. Yesterday, the other arm finally broke, which simply made the whole thing a pretty stellar hazard. I bought a new seat last week, but have yet to install it, due to the aforemntioned intimacy problems.

So I was sitting on the closed toilet seat, clipping my toenails on the floor. My phone was sitting on the shelf behind me. Somewhere in mid clip on my toe which neighbors the big guy on my left foot, my phone buzzed, indicating a text message. So I twisted my body around to reach for the phone, forgetting that the toilet seat was merely perched on the rim, attached to nothing. Which caused the toilet seat to obviously gyrate in the same direction. Which then not so obviously caused one end to dip slightly into the bowl, sort of dumping my ass into the toilet, at which point I threw one hand down onto the toilet rim, and the other wildly flailed sort of behind me and to the right, attempting to grab something, but instead just slammed into the rack, knocking deodorant sticks, contact lenses, and bottles of lotion all over the floor. At this point, having grabbed nothing with right arm and being somewhat off balance, the toilet seat slid off the rim, both of us landing on the floor, and my hand which was formerly on the rim of the toilet, instead just ended up in the toilet.

I then spent a few incredulous moments, sitting on the floor amidst a host of personal hygiene products and toenail clippings, wondering just where the hell my dignity went, and why it went there in such a flamboyant fashion.

I guess it's time to fix the toilet seat.