I am Matt Thomas.

Desperate Measures

June 16, 2005

I suppose the puddle in the parking garage should have done it, or perhaps the signs posted liberally around my building, but I didn’t realize until after I got home today and flushed the toilet after taking a pee that my apartment’s water had been shut off.

It wasn’t the unfortunate side-effect of my financial delinquency, either. When heading back downstairs to ask the apartment manager what was up, I found one of the signs proclaiming “DUE TO WATER MAIN BREAK, WATER HAS BEEN SHUT OFF UNTIL THIS EVNING” (sic). No sweat, I thought. I poured some orange juice and pulled out the leftover pizza and had myself some dinner.

Funny thing about dinner, though, is that it tends to cause certain biological functions to occur. It makes you need to shit. And oh, did it come on quickly. But I couldn’t take a shit. There was no water in the toilet, as I’d used my one safety-flush on urine. So I decided just to lay down, watch some TV, and try not to think about it.

That worked for about 15 minutes. As my stomach began to cramp and my lower G.I. began to alert me, “hey, seriously, let’s do this thing,” I begged off. “Just a few more minutes, guys. They’ll have the water back on in no time so don’t worry about it.”

But it didn’t come back on in a few minutes. It didn’t come back on in a few hours. By 10:00, I had needed to take a shit for four hours and the water was still not back on in my apartment. Then I had an idea.

I’d brewed myself a half-gallon of sweet tea last night. And it was delicious, one of the best batches I’ve made since moving to Baltimore. However, time was of the essence, and the complete list of fluids in my apartment was orange juice, sweet tea, and expired milk. It seemed like a waste to use the juice, and the expired milk…well…I won’t even entertain the idea.

So I poured myself a small glass of the tea for old time’s sake, and then dumped the rest in the toilet. I figured a little less than a half-gallon would be enough to get enough of the job done to buy me a few more hours. I did the deed, I flushed the toilet, and to my amazement, I heard the pipes groan as my toilet refilled with fresh clean water. Stunned, I reached over and opened the faucet in the sink, and water came sputtering, then flowing, then gushing out as though it had known my plight and was rushing to my aid, just seconds too slow.

I love my new life.