Sharing a house.
Sharing a house.
“It’ll be fun” they said.
Seemed like such a nice idea. When he first signed up for it, it made perfect sense. Lower the cost of housing and cohabitating would broaden his social circle.
That was until he found the upstairs bathroom occupied.
The only reason he chose to wear pajama bottoms all day instead of jeans was the little flap in front. Instead of having to zip and unzip, he had unfettered 24/7 access to the equipment. Simplifying the process and shaving precious seconds off of the transaction became a moot point if he was going to have to go downstairs to pee.
At least thirty feet of walking and stairs. Stairs! At least a dozen or more.
Is it possible that people’s bowel movements start to synch up, like women’s periods?
He certainly had plenty of time to ponder this question as he began the irksome trek to the downstairs bathroom.
“It certainly seems, now that I think about it, that they have started to drink at the same times I am drinking. At dinner, they lift their glasses as the same time I do. They drink for as long as I do then put them back down, like they don’t have a care in the world. It’s like looking into a mirror sometimes” he thought to himself as the stairs yawned below him.
He started to remember certain conversations at the table. Conversations where they all started to lift their glasses, only to put them down when did. It seemed perfectly normal at the time. But now…
“It’ll be fun” they said. The words started to reverberate in his head and caused him stop his descent mid-staircase. This immediately started an internal tug of war between the forces that wanted to explore this line of inquiry further and the delegation from his bladder which insisted on continuing their original course of action.
“Whatcha doing?” asked one of his housemates, looking up at him from the couch. It may or not be relevant to note that he was also wearing pajama bottoms and halfway through reading The Green Mile. A half-eaten tub of hummus sat on the side table, although I’m almost certain that this is neither here nor there.
“Mike is using up all of the upstairs bathroom” came his reply.
“Hmmm. That’s a rather odd way of putting it” said the man on the couch before returning to his book.
However fleeting the exchange might have been, it was enough to break the deadlock between his ears and he continued his journey to the downstairs bathroom with renewed vigor.
“When you gotta go, you gotta go” he thought to himself as he approached the door. As his hand touched the doorknob he added “But you can’t take it with you. Or can you? Hmmm. What if you’re dying to pee?”
As the door closed behind him and he turned to face the bowl he yelled “Yeah… I guess that was an odd way of putting it.” He doubted his housemate could hear him. Then he began his much-needed pee.
When he was done his pushed the handle down and made a mental note that the upstairs toilet flushed at precisely the same time.
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