Empty Anus, Filthy Hands

Sometimes our butts don't work the way we want them to. There can be timing issues, audio intensive issues, and of course issues involving our nasal passages. My issue revolved around timing.

So Joan and I were going to make an evening for ourselves and did a little bar hopping. Dive bar here, dive bar there, finally landing in our crawl-in-the-wall bar next door, about a mile from my place. Some wings and some drinks, some karaoke and some drinks, and the low low naughty rumble began to shake my inards. Damnit. This place is a DIVE; which I do love of course, but a crummy dive bar is not a place to have a seat and enjoy the miracle of a working gastrointestinal system. So I fought off the urge and the rumblings but I could tell this story was definitely going to have an ending in the locale we currently resided. After a decent fight I decided the battle was a loss anyhow and I trotted off to the crapper praying that I didn't return to my drink with crabs.

Bad news for Uncle Greg: The one toilet was filled with human waste of sorts, and was not flushing. Fucking gross. Really fucking gross. I'm out.

I returned to the table to a Joan who thought this situation was really really funny- and I guess it was pretty funny, funny enough that I'm writing about it hear I suppose, but at the time I was considering how much trouble I would get in if I took a crap in the corner of the bar; 'funny' wasn't really in me at the time, only turds were. Joan grabbed a bouncer and let him know that the crapper was buenoless. I did a jig in my painfu little head when I saw the man walk back to the bathrooms. Tick tock tick tock 5 more minutes and I should be able to get back to enjoying my humbling bar experience. I waited and waited and returned to the shitter once I saw the bouncer out of the can. I think perhaps I even jumped and clicked my shoes together in the air on the way. Threw open the stall door and voila! Same thing, no change, no flush.

Guuuuuuuuurgle gurrrrrgle gurgle. Time's up Greg, shit your pants or find an alternative. Point of no return has come and gone, any thought of running home real quick has now gone by. One stupid mile away and I can't make it. Time to get resourceful and fast. GROSS. I grabbed the WOODEN lid to the top of the toilet and put it on the ground. Fixed the two-part chain (half was chain half was some crazy peperclip combination that had come undone). Got on my hands and knees and got the water going again. Forced the flush with a lift of the bobber. Lid back on, did an extreme off colored disease inspection of the top of the can, ripped down the Wranglers and let 'er rip.

Back to the table and the rest of the eve was a sucess. However I did just have my hands in an awful shithole's shithole, on my hands and knees fixing a toilet full of drunk stranger's waste in a crummy part of town. Was it worth it? I'll give it a stalemate. It did resolve the issue and led to a kick ass evening, but it seriously was one of the nastier things I've ever done. Since I've been more aware of my bowel habits prior to going to nasty places. Another life lesson learned by yours truly.