Going to pubs and drinking is a normal part of everyone’s lives, except for some people of a certain religion who feel pressured to deny that they drink when in fact we all know that they do, heavily! Peeing also is a normal part of everyone’s lives, now guys I know this is a bit hard to swallow, but women go pee pee too, OK? And sometimes they go number two!
Now another aspect that apparently has become a normal part of life is the writing on toilet walls and doors; I don’t know who started this phenomenon or how it became popular. I don’t know who’s that intellectual to carry a pen around with them even when in the toilet; they’re keeping a poop journal perhaps? “Today my crap was a little green and grainy, but it had good consistency. Smell: somewhere between six PM sewers and morning mist. Must be that broccoli I had for lunch yesterday”
Anyways, the other day I was in a pub and I had to go pee (now all that blabber makes sense) and since I have a penis I had to go use the men’s room (men and women cannot share the same toilet because of a tiny dysfunction called Aiming Your Wiener). As I was standing there contemplating the email addresses and the “Fuck You’s” and “Your dick is too small” a misplaced statement grabbed my attention; on the wall right above the tissue holder was written “I love you Isabelle”.
My first reaction was disgust; what a strange place to declare your love to someone! But then I started thinking, the poor fellah loves this girl so much that he thinks about her even when he’s taking a pee –and now in retrospect, was he just taking a pee? Was he perhaps…? No no, of course not, one cannot operate the two heads simultaneously- what if Isabelle doesn’t know? What if this was the only place this love was declared? What if she never had access to it? Or worse, what if she had access to it?! I wanted to find the guy to warn him that if she ever came running to him one day screaming “I love you too!!” and she hugged him, he’d better hope that she is happy to see him AND she has a roll of quarters in her front pocket! Because boy is he going to be confused, and I mean REALLY confused! You know like that feeling of confusion you sometimes have when you’re eating ice cream and you get a brain freeze and it hurts but you can't stop because you're enjoying this too much or when you're in the toilet taking a dump on a hot summer day and the crap drops straight in the water and it splashes and a tiny cold drop hits your asshole and you’re left thinking: “Should I feel refreshed or disgusted?”