Sometimes you have to do something in life that gets your adrenaline pumping. Something to feel alive. Something wild and dangerous, like skydiving, or using an automatic flush toilet.
I never use a public restroom unless it’s absolutely necessary, but after three kids, “absolutely necessary” is anytime I cough, sneeze or laugh a little too hard. I’m always hopeful it will be a regular old-fashioned toilet that I have total control over, and I’m always let down when I see it’s an automatic. After blurting out swear words and inappropriate phrases that would make even Eminem blush, I begin the game of Russian Roulette for my butt. I sit down on the Devil’s urinal as slowly as possible so as not to activate the auto flush. Success. My ass is still dry. I empty my bladder without moving, without breathing, without blinking. And then Whoosh, the auto flush is somehow engaged. What the hell…no fair, I didn’t even blink! Now my butt is as wet as if I had fallen in! I still have to pee a little, but I’m too cold and tense from my horrific ordeal. Not only did I get soaked, but the toilet flushed with enough suction power to drag a small child down the toilet and all the way out to sea. I almost died you know. I finally calm down enough to resume urination. The second I let my guard down the auto flush engages again! Are you kidding me with this? Am I being punk’d? Ashton, is that you??? I look around and don’t spot any hidden camera’s, this is not a joke. So I continue on with my business. After I’m finished, I get up and…nothing. No flush. I wave my hand in front of the sensor, and still nothing. I need the toilet to flush now, but it won’t. So I’m standing there, staring at my eight ounces of processed water and some toilet paper, for everyone to see. I try the manual button, no luck. I give up and exit the stall to go wash my hands. The second I unlock the door and step out, the toilet flushes. Clearly the person who invented the auto flush toilet was a man who hates women.