Old Flushy's Last Stand

Written on January 10, 2009

Well I failed to mention the outcome of Rico's court date back on the 8th. Nothing happened. He has to go back on Monday the 12th. He came back, upset and we proceeded to flush things down our toilet, a game we play less of after what happened earlier this week. I will admit, it's still fun.

For anyone who has ever been to jail at the Main, or has ever even gone through the loop here, you know why this game holds a
childish fun factor. The toilets! Here you have a sort of toilet/sink combo deal going, where the sink is on top of a rectangular metal base with a metal bowl protruding out to one side. It resembles metal toilets they have in some beach bathrooms, except it is a helluva lot more powerful! This thing has a gnarly metal button for the flusher. And it's so powerful, so loud, and is pumping so much water so fast that when somebody downstairs flushes their toilet, you can hear it. It's like the Terminator of toilets. It's your toilet at home, but on crack and steroids, and with a bad ass attitude. You could probably suck a full grown otter down this thing.

I have seen these toilets eat county issue pants! Towels. books. These things are hungry! And they don't mess around. As long as you can line up whatever you're sending down right, it's going down. So you can see where the boyish fascination factor would come into play.

Well, lately our toilet has seemed to have gotten a little tired. It doesn't have that "twinkle" on its stainless steel bowl that it used to. And we don''t really push the issue too much, because we kinda broke its spirit.

Rico and I were playing the game, where we flush large objects down the toilet, and we were having a good ol' time as always. Old ball of paper with some spoons? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. Single serving milk carton filled with paper bags torn up? WHOOOOSH!!! Gone. A whole apple? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. Half of an old People magazine? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. The toilet was hungry. And we were in charge of feeding it.

So we stepped it up, only to find out that the toilet did in fact have a limit of what it could swallow. Cole slaw, a Styrofoam container, an orange, a bunch of old popcorn, and an extra sock that they gave me on accident at clothing exchange. We press the button, both of us grinning like idiots (well I was, Rico pretty much always has that expression) fully content with the gracious offering to our toilet.

Whooooo-ul-ludle-ludle-ludle-ludle...Uh oh.

Instead of the powerful swallow we were used to, followed by the disappearance of whatever was in the bowl, the water was bubbling and spinning the objects inside in a whirlpool effect as the water started rising. Shit! I mean...shoot! We never foresaw that outcome! This toilet was supposed to be indestructible! I had seen a lot more get sucked down one of these!

The water didn't overflow--yet--but every time we would let it chill for a bit and then flush it, the water kept climbing dangerously all the way to the top! Well what could we do? What any good American man would do in the absence of women: ignore the problem and hope it solved itself! So I read for a good thirty minutes, and flushed it again.

Same story: water almost overflowed onto the floor of our cell.

So I got crafty. I wasn't about to call a deputy on the speaker and tell him we flushed a bunch of stuff down the toilet and broke it. I was in no mood to get pretzeled, but I knew we would soon run out of options. I concocted a sort of hook/spear device out of some of the cardboard backing on a tablet of writing paper, some string made from a plastic sandwich bag, and a plastic spoon. When you're in jail, sometimes you just gotta step up and McGyver stuff. So with my new tool I attempted to push/force the bigger items (mainly the orange and the sack) down the "suckhole" while pressing the button.

Ludle-ludle-ludle-ludle (water rising) garble-garble-garble (bubbles), and then WHOOOSH!!! Eureka! We did it! No wait, screw that, I did it! I acted as the ex-lax to the toilet's constipation! I saved us from getting pretzeled by the deputies! I did, me!

Yeah, it was my idea to include the sock, but whatever! I fixed it! But we were disappointed. It's like the first time you see your Dad really get hurt and, you see him in pain and realize he's not invincible. Or like finding out Santa isn't real. Or that the bad ass lead singer of one of your favorite bands is gay. It doesn't necessarily change how much you like them or anything, but it's just hard to really see them the same after that.

Our toilet couldn't eat anything. It wasn't a bottomless pit. And not only that, it had been taken out by some Styrofoam, a sock, and an orange. We just couldn't believe it.

It was a sad day. A day where you felt like you were forced to grow up a little bit against your will. Like an older boy had shattered some illusion you had believed to be fact, and he presented undeniable evidence to support his argument.

I would be lying if I said we don't still flush things down the toilet for the fun of it, because it still makes a bad ass noise. But we have definitely kept the toilet on a "light diet." We don''t challenge her anymore. She is still very much a part of our everyday lives (duh, it's our toilet!) but it's still hard to ever see her (I don't know when I decided our toilet was a she) in the same light, the way we used to.

Back when Santa was real. Your Dad was invincible. Judas Priest were all bad ass heterosexuals, and you could feed a full grown otter to a beefy-ass metal toilet in jail.