Jenny is on her way here. Not at this very moment, but soon. Very soon. Soon enough where there are parts of my apartment I can clean then completely avoid as not to completely dirty them up with my grimy bachelor presence.
We’ll finally end our Saturday Skype dates. The regular feelings of loneliness ceases too as I will have her with me always. And on a more melancholy piece of news, pooping with the door open is completely out of bounds.
I’m not sure what it is about seeing someone poop that is so horrific. I suppose it’s the vulnerable position they are in. Nobody should meet their heroes or witness another human being pooping. For the pooper, getting caught doing it might be even worse. Pooping is such a relaxing 3 hours of everyone’s day. (We do all poop for 3 hours each day, right?) Nobody should have it disturbed.
Everyone poops and I guess this is why we can relate to the topic. Some choose to hide the fact that they, at least a few times a week, drop their pants and sit down on a chair with a hole in it and let their body evacuate itself. I’m not sure why denying that you poop is trendy. I remember reading in some book as a kid (a book all about gross things) that the Germans used to keep their poop and pile it really high. The higher the pile, the wealthier they were. This can’t possibly be true. There’s no way a country could still exist today if shit was their currency.
When it comes to pooping with the door open, this is such a single person thing to do. Even if Jenny said to me “go ahead, I don’t care” I honestly don’t think I could poop with the door open. I feel like she’d pear around a corner, raise her eyebrows in a teasing manner, and then go back to what she’s doing. It’s not just her. I think everyone would do this given the chance to see me poop.
Going number two has always been one of those events I’m sensitive to. There are a lot of fears with it. I used to be terrified that I’d open the toilet seat and see a head in there. Before you think this is crazy, Jenny knows about this already. Maybe more insane, I could never go poop if a person’s face on a magazine was “watching” me. I’ve turned over thousands of magazines in the bathroom because of the odd feeling that the Time Person of the Year had nothing better to do than spy on me pooping via magazine cover. Some kids are terrified of clowns. Me, it was the Double Mint Twins judging my butt wiping form.
So, in only a few days, three major events from my daily life come to an end. Skype is useless other than saying “halo-halo” to Jenny’s family in the Philippines. Loneliness is going to be tough to own up to which means I’ll need a completely new gimmick. And pooping with the door open stops. I should probably test the door hinge to make sure it even closes.
It has been years since I pooped with the door open whilst at home. I might be losing out on the view of the entire apartment soon, but I’d give that up for Jenny any day.*
*Best husband ever.