Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Brian Touches Pee, Learns Nothing.

A few days ago, I was peeing at work (in the toilet of course, not just behind the fax machine or something), when my keys fell into the toilet. Initially, when I told my wife this, she was fairly incredulous.

Me: I dropped my keys in the toilet honey.

Her: What?

Me: I dropped my keys in the toilet sugarplum.

Her: You dropped your keys in the toilet???

Me: I dropped my keys in the toilet Cuddle butt.

Her: Why?

And the conversation went on like that for a while, with her growing more and more suspicious that she'd married a man who was born with an extra chromosome, and me trying to reassure her by calling her pet names like babycakes, pooh bear, and hooker lips.

Let me explain how this happened. I originally had my keys in my pocket like a normal person, but the pants I was wearing were obviously made by retarded monkeys in the dark. Somehow my pants are too loose in the waist and too tight in the thighs, which makes no sense because I have normal sized thighs and my fat accumulates mostly as side fat. (I also enjoy clouds, tabby kittens, and long walks by the fireplace.)

Anyhow, since I was wearing oddly configured pants, my keys kept poking me in the groinal area every time I did anything at all. I have sharp keys too. Ouch! It felt like getting bit on the crotch by a parrot. (That's a whole other story.)

So since I was wearing a hoodie, I took my keys out of my pocket and put them in that little kangaroo pouch thing that many hoodies come equipped with. (Side note: I have a skate key on my key chain and I have no idea what it's for.)

Then when I went to pee, I lifted up the pouch so I wouldn't pee on my own clothes and in doing so my keys fell into the uriney toilet. And not just into the toilet either, into that hole at the bottom of the toilet where the wild things go after you flush them. The keys were barely visible, and I didn't have any spares. This was horrible! I walked back out to the office kitchen and I was looking for some salad tongs or something, all the while keeping my eye out for anybody nearby that I could shoo away if they tried to get in the bathroom.

I found a big long knife and figured maybe I could stab out the keys. Of course right as I'm doing this, the UPS guy walks in with some certified mail for me to sign. I'm sure he felt really comfortable engaging some guy who was about to walk into the bathroom with a big knife and I could tell he was not unhappy to get back to his truck.

The story ends like this. I didn't stick the knife into the toilet because... well it's a knife and people cut food with it, and that's a little too weird, even for me. We've somehow managed to retain the pot my wife threw up in as a kid, but she won't cook stuff in it. It's the same basic concept. I did however, stick my entire right arm into a toilet filled with my own pee and retrieve my keys. Then I did some swearing and washed my arm for about 2 hours, and went back to work. All in all, it was pretty gross.

(Post-Script to this story: You'd think I would have learned some sort of lesson from car key/toilet mishap, but today I dropped my keys in the toilet again. Maybe I do have that extra chromosome after all...)