Living with four other people creates awkward pooping situations. That shouldn’t be surprising; undoubtedly cavemen dispersed miles apart to pass their digested mammoth ribs and from there hence, people have desired to make waste far from others. People also prefer to poop away from where they live and work. This is why there are not toilets in the middle of living rooms (even though that would be the greatest thing ever for single people). But I digress?
Last night I had a grave dilemma. There are two bathrooms in our house. One is in the bedroom I share with Greg and Sonath. The other belongs to the other two roommates, Ryan and Dave. Now I was brewing a real sea bass in my lower intestine and here’s where the quandary manifested itself: either I could poo in my bathroom where two people were sleeping, for crying out loud, or I could expel in the bathroom belonging to two very awake people who might need to brush their teeth soon. Of course everyone knows that in a roommate situation, it is good etiquette not to take enormous, Taco Bell dumps in another person’s bathroom (it’s where they brush their teeth for crying out loud!).
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For the record, when we moved into our Hell Hole(tm) known as a house, the renters before us left a serious mess everywhere. Strange foods such as garbanzo beans, Crisco butter, and Hickory Smoked Cheerios inhabited every corner of the kitchen. The bathroom, once believed to be carpeted, was merely caked in pubic hair. There were empty beer bottles on every window sill and spider webs in every corner. The yard, which still needs some serious landscaping, was so overgrown with grass that mowing it was probably a feat to be seen. Fortunately, my roommate Ryan pulled that duty and we discovered we had a yard buried under the grass. Other things in the grass: three tennis balls, empty beer bottles, four hobos, My Little Pony Deluxe “Pink Prancer” Set with Interchangeable Pony Heads and Cute Little Brush, and also rocks.
