RANT: A Letter to the Only Working Toilet
Hi. It’s me: the girl that visits you at least three times a day from 8am to 5pm. I try not to. I try to avoid you until I get home, but I can’t. That is why you and I need to talk. I’m sure you are aware of your little problem. Your sensor is messed up and decides to flush every 30 seconds whether my ass is sitting on you or not. If you were a domestic toilet, this wouldn’t be such a problem, but you are a commercial toilet with a powerful flush. This makes it quite unpleasant when I’m sitting on you and 30 seconds later you behave as a bidet.
However, being the adaptable person that I am, I’ve learned to master you. You see, once I sit, I do what’s called “power pee”, which requires me pushing the urine out of my body within twenty seconds. This gives me six seconds to physically recover from this. Then, I lift my ass off the seat, let you do your timed flushing, and then I resume with wiping. This has been the routine for the last two months.
Well, today was a different day. You flushed earlier than normal. No, don’t argue. I know you did. I was joyfully sitting on you enjoying my “power pee”, and before I finished you flushed, splattering my ass with your toilet water mixed with my urine. The joy was lost. I frantically tried to wipe myself with toilet paper, but you impressively covered a large portion of my lower body with your water, making it difficult to wipe it all. I had to stand in the stall, with my pants down, airing out my ass for five minutes. As I did this, you happily flushed twelve times, mocking me with your porcelain grin.
Fuck you toilet and everything you stand for.
The girl with the wet ass