Wiped Out

Setting:  5 o’clock. A bare apartment bathroom. There is a basket of dirty laundry in the corner. A  painting of a naked woman graces the wall. It’s an artistic rendition of the female form, very tasteful.  There are also two magazines on the bathroom counter, Maxim and GQ. The GQ  is the issue with Jennifer Aniston on the cover. Is it just me or is she getting hotter?! I digress…

Chinese food.    It’s quite possibly one of the greatest gifts to the food world, as well as an arch-enemy of the digestion system. Yesterday I went head to head with the Great Wall all-you-can-eat buffet, and came out feeling like a king.  My feelings of satisfaction, however, were soon smashed when  I felt an all too familiar gurgle  in the pit of my stomach. Like any male my age, I tested the gurgle out by standing up , just checking to see if my colon was for real or if it was simply teasing me. Upon my standing it felt as though a lead weight dropped in my stomach, and the onslaught of the ever dreaded “dookie pains” forced me to run to my bathroom in an attempt to assuage my anguish .

My panic then turned to relief as I sat atop my porcelain throne and did my deed. It is common practice to read during this time, and of course I delved into a couple magazines  whilst my bowels did battle with the forces of China. It was towards the apex of that battle where my real trouble began. Needing a courtesy flush, I reached for the toilet paper and pulled. It was to my extreme horror that I heard that distinct “riiip” that signals the end of the toilet paper roll. “ No problem”, I thought to myself, “I’ve got a spare under the sink.” False.  My cabinet was as bare. There was no TP to be had, and what was worse…. I was all alone.  I could feel panic starting to set in, and I knew if I didn’t act quickly I could be the subject of much ridicule. I scanned my bathroom and made a list of possible substitutes.  After I made my list, I started to weigh the pro’s and con’s of each item.

Sock:                     Pros: super absorbent and soft,

                            Cons: good for one swipe, maybe two. Cannot flush .

Washcloth:         Same pros and cons as sock, slightly rougher fabric.

Receipt from Target:      Pros: paper like, so it’s kinda like the real thing. flushable

                                   Con: good for one swipe only.

Magazines:             Pros: Hot women. Made from paper. Flushable.

                             Cons: cant tear the pages with the hot women.



                                    
       For most of these items, the Cons simply outweighed the Pros.  The Target receipt seemed the most viable option for immediate gratification, and I got its full use in due time. After the receipt, I was stumped. I dared not violate the Jennifer Aniston GQ issue, and I couldn’t bear to tear apart the Maxim. It was then, in my moment of trouble, I noticed through the doorway of my bathroom my backpack. Sitting upon it was none other than the school newspaper.OH JOY! OH WHAT SWEET JOY! LET THE CHOIRS OF ANGELS SING! There it sat, a virtual cornucopia of cleaning, the homeless man’s delight, my rhapsody in paper.  A wave of relief rushed over me as I knew, then and there that I would make it out of this situation clean and unashamed.

                Only one thing stood in my way. 6 feet of tile and carpet.   It seemed 6 miles away. But I would not, could not be deterred. I soldiered on, and duck waddled, trou around the ankles to the backpack and claimed my prize. In my mind, the theme from Chariots of Fire blared as I held high my newspaper and waddled back to the toilet.  My finish line was in sight, and I would not stop until I was clean! In no time, the sports section had been torn apart and my triumph was flushed away.

                As I walked out of my bathroom, I thought back on the past 20 minutes.  One would think that shame would have swept over me, I mean, I DID just use the school newspaper as toilet paper.  Strangely enough, I felt no shame. Instead I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. Take THAT life! Throw me another curveball I dare you.

College Ingenuity: 1      Toilet: 0