greydog

even 3 inches of scum off the bathroom floor couldn't repulse me from engaging in my hourly piss.
peeing away, staring at myself in the filth frosted mirror, and keeping myself from falling over.
i see the 'flush' button and press it.
i wanted to see what would happen if i continued to piss while the toilet flushed. why? i had been awake for twenty hours since we left New York's Penn Station and things were starting to seem very fun to me.
i held the 'flush' button down. i don't think you are supposed to abuse the toilet like that. the elements rose to the tip of the rim. i let go. i was still peeing. i stood back and aimed for the bowl. my pee was topping off the toilet and overflowed onto the floor. i knew that there were worse things covering the floor in there, so that didn't bother me, but i didn't want excrement on my sneakers and pant legs.
i bent over and slapped the lid down and zipped up and stepped out of the way of the overflow juice.
on my way back to my seat, the guy who sat across from me and loved his Brooks and Dunn cd so much, shoved passed me in route to the bathroom. 'heh heh heh,' i laughed to myself. 'that guy is gonna have alot of fun in there.'
'excuse me?' said the lady who was sitting next to me.
'did i say that out loud?' i asked her.
'yes. what did you say?'
'oh, nothing. heh heh heh.'

- Andy Slater