Day 62:Oops, I did it again!

Anyone that knows me is going to get a kick out of this. First let me say that I am on the Stanstead Express to the airport and no long in a hurry, but that wasn’t the case minutes ago.

I was finishing my second and final day in London, more on that to follow, and it was time to leave. To leave the city, I had an extensive walk back to the Ashlee House, the hostel I stayed the night in, before catching the 1700 express. Somehow I miss calculated my distance from the hostel and found myself running a bit behind schedule. That is odd because I am rarely, if ever late. But late I was. I had to swing by the hostel to pick up my bag, send a quick email to Jordan, and that was it. Hustling into the hostel, I paid for 20 minutes of Internet time and jogged down stairs. Four minutes into the 20 something happened. Well, something was trying to happen and I was trying to keep it from happening. Unable to contain it any longer, I dove for the luie and made it just in time for a buttxplosion.

I have discovered that with each country change, my bowels adjust, ever so slightly. No Caddick like episodes have caught me with my pants up, but there have been some close calls. I remember back to Iraq when the doctors there diagnosed near everyone with STF Syndrome (Scared To Fart). My first day in Iraq, I was warned that it happens to everyone, no one is immune, everyone has to clean out their shorts at least once. I broke the mold, but not without much conscience effort and diligent prior planning.

I completely forgot to tell you the whole point of this blog. Back track a little to London. I have successfully made it to the toilet, done my thing, and begin completing the necessary post toilet actions. Remember that I am in a hurry. I go to flush and nothing happens. It would be rude to leave in the bowl what I just put there, so I flush again only this time harder. Again nothing! I am now desperate and running way behind so I push really hard and… SNAP!! Can you believe it? I break the handle. What now? I can’t leave this fowl stench plastered to the sides of the bowl. Brown chunks everywhere, and you have to know that in most of Europe, at least everywhere I have been, they have the low-flow, water saving toilets where the bowl barely fills with water so anything left is not submersed and aromatically takes over. My engineering training takes over. I pull the top off, yank on the plunger thingy and yes, it flushes. I am in business now. I beat feet back upstairs, grab my bag, inform the cute desk chick of my destructive dealings, and make it to the train in just enough time.

This reminds me of another story about my dad. He was at Chile’s when… (just kidding, enough toilet humor.)

Enjoy the rest of your day. May it be filled with happy thoughts and solid BMs.

Until then and tomorrow.

Jason