Fact: A travel blog just isn’t a travel blog without a shit story.
On Wednesday evening of last week I came from home from work feeling under the weather. Exhausted and drained, I headed straight for bed. I started to stir about 8pm, tossing and turning in my bed. Then came that unnerving feeling in my belly. As I tried to ignore the pain and go back to sleep, I felt my face turn pale, and then I realised the (literally) shitty truth: I had a bad stomach and was going to, rather urgently, have to use the bathroom – which is shared with 5 other people. Oh shit! Thankfully, as I walked through the hallway I could see that the bathroom was unoccupied – result!
Once I’m finished using the toilet I press the flush button and turn to walk out the door. The bathroom layout is unusual where the actual toilet is in a separate room from the sink, shower and bath. As I’m about to take a step out the room, I hear a sudden rushing and flowing of water. I quickly turn around to see water pissing out over the toilet bowl and heading right for me! Fuck fuck fuck I’m muttering to myself. I pull some moves like Jagger to get the fuck out of there and into the no flood zone! My moves fail me, my socks are soggy, shitty soggy.
As I stand in the bathroom, wet feet and all, staring at the toilet bowl, which at this current time, is still full of shitty toilet water, I wonder what happened.
Had I actually blocked the toilet? Can I fix this without anyone ever knowing? What if someone knocks at the door wanting in?
I kept an eye on the water level for about 60 seconds before concluding that I was, in fact, fucked. The water wasn’t going down. I was going to have to confess to my housemates. What a crappy situation.
I took my soggy socks off and threw them into a corner of the bathroom before sheepishly walking into the living room to find one of the housemates watching Netflix. He asks what’s up. I tell a COMPLETE LIE and say that I went for a pee and now the toilet is overflowing (mowahahahaha). I explain the current state of the bathroom and he asks me to go knock on all the doors and tell people that they can’t use the toilet.
One of the Irish girls emerges from her room where I stop her in her tracks to tell her that se can’t use the toilet. Instant regret. She was furious and in desperate need of a pee. Oh well, not fast you’re last and all that! I continue with my made up story which not one person questions. One of them calls the landlord who arranges for a handyman to come round and take a look at what’s going on.
The Unexpected Truth
While we’re waiting for the handyman to arrive, we’re gathered in the living room talking about it, and this is where the cat comes into the story. Boyca the cat, isn’t our cat, but he’s around a lot and seems to pretty much live here. It turns out that he was unintentionally locked in the house on Wednesday morning. He couldn’t get outside to do his business and …y’know how that goes. One of the guys now confesses that he cleaned the mess up with an entire toilet roll and flushed it away. Everyone immediately ends at the same conclusion and starts grilling him, telling him that they now couldn’t use the toilet because of him. I agreed that it could have only been him to blame because ‘I only went for a pee and therefore didn’t use much toilet roll’.
I left them all arguing between themselves on the correct disposal of animal waste and went back to my room.
I haven’t seen Boyca the cat since…