TMI Thursday: Brown out

It’s TMI Thursday again, and as my mother once told me “they” used to say, I’ve got the poop. It’s actually a story I’ve told in short form in comments around the blogosphere, but has never really gotten it’s due.

Clog Day Afternoon

For a long time, I considered myself to be living in bliss. Since I had no evidence to the contrary, I was of the belief that women did neither of the following:

1) Fart
2) Poop

It was more because I didn’t want to believe that they did than anything else, but I was comfortable with that. One day I came home from work and was greeted by the presence of the girlfriend of one of our friends (I was living with Deep Cover and The Captain at the time.) I can’t remember why she was over, but she hung out for awhile before leaving.

Now, our little 2-story townhouse had a half bathroom on the 1st level by the front door, and upstairs there was one and one half baths. We rarely used the 1st half bath, but on this day I decided to take a leak down there before having a snack. I entered and walked over to the toilet. Glancing down before unzipping, I saw that the toilet was clogged by a fairly sizable collection of human fecal matter. I bolted quickly from the bathroom.

“Alright, who clogged the shitter?”

None of the three roommates had used it for that in over 24 hours. After a little thinking, we figured out what happened: The girlfriend had clogged our toilet.

This was a watershed moment for me. Not only was the myth of women not pooping shattered, it was shattered spectacularly. Not only did I know now that women pooped, I learned that they were also capable of clogging a toilet of usual size. Inconceivable! It was like learning that dolphins both could walk on land and really hated people. It was like learning that drinking exactly 3000 cans of Mountain Dew over the course of a lifetime would kill you while you were drinking that 3000th can. I was simultaneously scared of the girlfriend and frightened of the turd in the bowl, and so was Deep Cover, so much so that neither of us wanted to go back in there and plunge the toilet.

So we didn’t. For a few hours.

Eventually I grew determined to conquer this mutant poop and make safe the bathroom for mankind. I needed to get a closer look at the crevice creature to determine the proper course of action, so I put on work gloves, grabbed a ski cap to cover my nose and mouth, and grabbed a mallet in case the poop tried some shit. I opened the door and crept in, leaning forward to see into the bowl without getting too close. After a quick assessment I came to the conclusion that it was plunge-able. I marched up the stairs to the full bath to get the plunger, walking past Deep Cover. Still wearing the gloves, I grabbed the plunger and held it up with two hands as if it was the Excalibur. Deep Cover gasped in a “my god, he’s going to do it!” way, and told me to wait. He tied a bandana over his face and grabbed a can of lysol. He walked down the stairs behind me and stood in the doorway with his finger on the Lysol trigger as I entered and plunged the hell out of the toilet like an Amish churning butter for the whole village. There was bubbling and splashing in the bowl as the poop fought for its life. Spent, I hesitatingly flushed the toilet. Success!

Deep Cover fired off a few Lysol shots and closed the door after I’d run out. We were equally shocked at what had happened and the fact that the girlfriend just left it there. Admittedly the chances are she was either too embarrassed to ask where our plunger was, or just didn’t know she’d done it. Either way, I think I summed up everyone’s feelings when it was over.

“We should’ve just scooped it out of there, put it in tupperware, and sent it to her.”

TMI Thursday - Brown out

5 Responses

  1. She was probably just mad at you guys for something. I usually threaten not to flush if BMW pisses me off.

  2. Worse than that, though, is the time when a friend of mine took out her tampon and waved it in her boyfriend’s face to disgust him in to submission.

  3. “…grabbed a mallet in case the poop tried some shit.”

    A poet, you are.

  4. And I am sure you never looked at her the same way again.

  5. Ah yes, I well remember this…you were a braver man than I that day. While you donned the “ski cap of purity” and wielded the “mallet of shining justice,” I sobbed in the corner like a little girl. My world was broken as well.

    Interestingly enough, I never looked at her the same for two different reasons, this was only number one. Reason number two however, does not belong on this blog.

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