The party was shitty
Sub location: Upstairs bathroom.
Me: In some serious trouble.
Enjoying myself immensely I excused myself from a lovely little lady in red, and the shrimp table, to utilize the facilities. As I entered the bathroom, which was just at the top of the stairs, I noticed the door didn't lock. No problem, there was a small glass-block wall that was transparent enough to see that someone was in there. No one would come in.
I do my. Business. Number 2, serious number 2. Stunk like I had been eatin' snakes. I turned around, marveled at my handy work, shook my head and tweaked my nose. It was almost a shame to flush it....but it had to be done. I depressed the small silverish handle, looked like a seashell. "Cute", I thought. It was at this time that time began to slow down. Like Max Payne, everything moved in complete slowmo. The lever clicked on the down swing, and I heard a small "thud". "Ohhhh nooooo" I mouthed, and I heard the wushing of water. Panic. Fear.
Let's stop for a moment and remember what I've said previously. The location of the bathroom, directly at the TOP OF THE STAIRS. WOOD FLOOR. WOOD HALL. SLIGHT SLOPE TO THE STEPS...
We return now to our hero...
Like an expert toiletsman I disassemble the top. Off comes the lid. Expensive toilet, all the parts are pretty. Quickly I try to find the chain. There is no chain. There is a small wire running from two things that look like they may be letting the water in. I pull it up. MORE WUSHING WATER. I push it down. SLIGHTLY less water. The toilet is very quickly brimming. If this was MacGyver the bomb would be at about 00:02 right now. There is NO TIME for half measures. I push the lever down as hard as I can. It snaps.
The sudden realisation that everyone, including hot in red I was talking to earlier, are going to find me. Find me splashing around in my own foul smelling waste with my pants around my ankles and a broken toilet in my hands.
Stomach churning. "I could go some more", I think. Ironic.
There's only one way to stop it now. I turn the knob behind the tank. The water stops about 1/4" above overflowing. The shit is starting to break apart. The whole thing is a murky pool of filth, quickly becoming the color of dark coffee. The smell is unbearable. Quickly my already-MacGyver-track mind is trying to think up some elaborate contraption to get this water in to the tub, or out the window, trying not to streak it down the downstairs windows....and awning.
More panic. Immense fear.
The knob turns.
The knob stops turning.
A knock. "Is someone in there?"
I reply, "YES, YES, OCCUPIED, YEAH, THERE'S SOMEONE IN HERE"
"YEAH I'M FINE THANKS, HOW ARE YOU?"
I realize this isn't going to solve itself. I have to do something about this right now, because more people are coming, surely coming. Coming up the stairs at this very instant, perhaps. I rifle through the little stupid cabinet they've got here. A 24 pack of toilet paper. Holy.
I go through the vanity. More paper. And sheets. Sheets, paper, towels, and a bathrobe.
What do all these things have in common?
That's right. I used the toilet brush, wrapped in one of the above mentioned garments to soak up massive quantities of shit, and flung them out the window. Car alarms were going off, cats and bums were screaming in unison. Once I got the water down to a level that would allow me some time, I turned the levers back on, pulled up my pants, ran downstairs, said my goodbyes, and L E F T.
this is in or around NJ