The post-Christmas sales were on. The crowds at the mall were maddening and Mrs Fit’s bladder, which, after having to cope with copious amounts of coffee, was demanding to be emptied. Immediately!
Her bladder threatened to burst in the line at the always clean, sparkling, new loos so she high tailed it, crab like to the stinky, old loos. Loos which at all other times were best avoided.
Mrs Groovy, catching sight of Mrs Fit doing her weird dance across the mall texted her and suggested they catch up for a wine or two.
Wine? Liquid? Mrs Fit’s bladder doubled in size. She couldn’t contemplate swallowing anything ever again, let alone being able to concentrate on replying to a text. So she shoved her fabulous, new phone, (purchased only that morning) into her back pocket and lurched into a toilet cubicle, almost banging the door off its hinges. After fumbling with her zipper, for what seemed like an eternity, she finally sat down on the disturbingly, warm toilet seat.
With the force of a fire hose her bladder let loose. On and on it flowed until finally it was restored to normal size. What sweet relief.
Mrs Fit tidied herself up and turned to flush the toilet button. What was that black thing lying in the bottom of the murky toilet bowl? It looked like a phone. No way! She’d peed on someone’s phone! Yuck!
Remembering Mrs Groovy’s text Mrs Fit decided a wine was exactly what she needed after all and reached for her phone.
Her face turned white. Then it turned green.
“Oh *#$%ity! *#!ity! *#!ity! *#ck!” she roared. That was her new phone in the bottom of the toilet bowl!
Bile filled her throat as she reached in to grab it. Warm toilet water covered her hand. She sobbed aloud as she held her precious phone gingerly in her fingers and patted it dry with toilet paper.
She couldn’t bring herself to see if it still worked. Instead she wrapped it in meters and meters of toilet paper, dropped it in her treasured Marc Jacobs tote, (a Christmas present from Mr Fits) and scrubbed her hands until they were red raw.
“The line at the other loos is outrageous,” Mrs Groovy said rushing in to the cubicle next to where Mrs Fit had just been. “Oh look, someone’s dropped their phone on the floor. How revolting!”
“Pick it up would you?” Mrs Fit asked begged.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Who knows what’s been on the floor. You pick it up,” and she kicked it under the door.
Mrs Fit couldn’t believe her eyes. There amidst all the grime, germs and whatever else lay her brand spanking new phone. The phone in the toilet wasn’t hers after all.
How putrid was that?
Thanks for reading,
Photo cred eProvided