Farcical Faeces

In 1997, I was out of work and bored. I’d had some stress related problems and for health reasons I mutually agreed to leave a job I’d only been doing for 10 weeks. I didn’t feel ready to return to work, but it’s hard to find cheap things to fill the 39 hours that were previously reserved for paid employment.

I had this ridiculous idea of volunteering my services to Portsmouth Volunteer Bureau. In my mind I thought they’d be so grateful that I was laying my life on the line for them, that I’d expect the red carpet treatment on my arrival, with beautiful women handing my glasses of wine and canapés. Alas, it never happened.

What did happen was completely farcical and all my own fault. This would not have been out of place in an episode of ‘The Inbetweeners’. I entered the building and approached a woman behind a counter asking her about me becoming a volunteer. She told me to take a seat where someone would speak to me shortly.

I sat impatiently in the waiting room for what seemed like an eternity. The waiting was making me nervous so I asked the lady behind the counter if I could use the toilet. She directed me to a disabled toilet and as I closed the door behind me, I was plunged into almost complete darkness. There was a small frosted window near the ceiling allowing in some light but not enough to allow me to see what I was doing.

I noticed in the room there were 2 cords hanging from the ceiling, but had no idea which of them would turn the light on. Admittedly this wasn’t on a par with the bomb disposal team agonising over which wire to cut but the cord I pulled still triggered off the alarm.

The alarm was deafening. Only the darkened room and the closed door could conceal the embarrassment on my reddened face. Suddenly, the alarm was disarmed, and all I could hear was the sound of a concerned woman asking “Are you alright?”

“Yes I’m alright,” I replied. “I pulled the wrong cord by mistake.”

With the room now brightened, I sat on the toilet seat, unburdening myself of my bodily waste. As I stood up and turned around, I was horrified to discover there was no toilet paper. I searched all 4 corners of the room, but to no avail. A normal, rational human being would ask for toilet paper, but not me. Well not after the disruption I’d previously caused.

I stood to attention and as I pulled the lever, I waved goodbye to my depth charge. To my horror, it just looked back at me and wouldn’t vanish down the u-bend, despite multiple flushes. I couldn’t attend an interview knowing I’d set the alarm off and left one of my rancid turds clinging to the sides of the u-bend.

With no toilet paper to hand, I was forced with the unenviable task of wrestling this foe down the u-bend with my naked hand. I then pulled the lever and it disappeared forever, probably sinking several submarines in the Solent.

The worst of this nightmare was over..... or so I thought. As I approached the sink to wash my hands, I noticed there was no soap or hand cleaner. To my knowledge, water alone can’t remove or mask the stench of a fresh human turd. However, water was all there was.

I then left the room and was greeted by a woman informing me that someone was ready to talk to me. She led me upstairs to the Interview room where another woman with a welcoming smile greeted me. She stretched out her right hand to shake mine. Yes, the one that had wrestled that unwanted turd.

As we sat opposite each other in the room, we discussed what voluntary work I’d like to do. I don’t know why but with no previous experience whatsoever, I said I’d be very interested in counselling.

After her experience of meeting me, I wonder whether she received any.

#toilethumour