They say human life revolves around the refrigerator.
(They also say that if you hold your face that way too long, it'll freeze that way.)
I say it revolves around the toilet.
C'mon, you know yours does.
Mine has lately. But I have no ordinary toilet, mind you. Mine is a 'special' toilet, seemingly designed for my listening pleasure.
It makes noises.
To quote (myself):
"Then when I walked away I heard 'tinkle tinkle tinkle', and when I looked down, it wasn't me"
--me, on the toilet overflowing
This was a couple days ago (~23/06/1998). Since then the tinklin' tuba has been silenced -- due, of course, to my intrepid grandfather and his plunger, ever vigilant and at the ready for plumbing problems -- but tonight another noise emerged from my most unusual urn.
A plop and a clink.
A dime had fallen out of my pants and into the dumper.
Should I reach for it? Or should I let my $.10 go?
(By now you're probably asking how a coin got into my underpants. Here's how it happened. I had been sitting in a LA-Z-BOY in my usual, laid-back fashion, when upon my arising I felt a strange sensation--a penny falling down my pantleg. Having no holes in my pockets, this naturally sent me a curve. Until I realized that the change from my pockets had worked its way from my pockets to the seat, and then to my waistband. As soon as I stood, it slid into my pants. Slick, no? And why am I telling you this? Because it struck me as odd.)
So I flushed it a couple times, and grabbed my dime. And washed my hands.