Living in Brown’s Court, you get used to certain things.
Beer bottles smashed, items stolen, general rowdiness until the wee early morning on most weekends. Irregular garbage pickup. Outrageous rent. Erratic neighbors. Fistfights over chairs aren’t rare.
I’ve been here for about two years. I thought I’d seen it all.
Until this morning. But first, the back story.
I work at a call center. I was off at or around nine o’clock. On Sunday nights, I usually go to my parent’s place to visit. (Or mooch food and cable, and pick up mail for the past week. It’s open to interpretation.) Last night was no exception. Met some of my sister’s new friends. Had the first family BBQ of the summer. Watched a truly forgettable episode of
the Simpsons, a messed up
Family Guy, and a formulaic
American Dad. Good times were had by all. Leaving at 11:30 PM as ennui had set in, I returned to my abode at or around 11:45.
The apartment was dark, as it usually is when I get home. I poured myself a glass of “miscellaneous fruit” juice (so named because it had some of every kind of fruit imaginable mixed in) and went to bed. My roommates were either asleep or in their room, as both doors were closed and typing was heard as I walked by both of their doors. So tired was I that I fell asleep before even talking to my
girlfriend on MSN.
That, folks, is tired. I estimate I was unconscious by midnight.
Morning came briskly. By 9:00 AM, I was awake and ready to face a sunny Monday morning. I stretched, listened for the news on the radio, and made my way to the upstairs bathroom to do my morning routine. I was unprepared for the sight I was about to see.
In the toilet were two 12” sub rolls, perfectly placed, in the bowl.
No, I’m serious.
Two fucking sub rolls. In a
toilet.
I went back to my bedroom, thinking perhaps I was dreaming.
I retraced my steps, and the rolls were still there.
Convinced that I may truly be losing my mind, I used the bathroom downstairs, and went back to sleep for an hour and a half. At 11:30, I went for a shower – and the subs were still there.
I was still not completely convinced that I was not insane. Camera in tow, I took pictures.
The pictures are here. No, I am not making this up at all. I wish I was.
As gross as the idea of photographs in a bathroom is, I needed tangible proof that I was not seeing things. Each of the photographs confirmed that, yes, there are two sub rolls currently in my toilet.
Now that my head was clear, and I was quite certain that I was not seeing things, my mind began to wander.
Two?
I could understand one. If you were eating a plain sub roll in the bathroom, and accidentally knock it into the toilet, you’d probably consider leaving it there too. One makes perfect sense. But
two?
Sub rolls? I don’t even remember seeing sub rolls in the apartment. I had bought bread rolls Saturday, but they were unopened. Also, they were small, and I certainly don’t remember eating them in the bathroom, let alone knocking two into the toilet.
Two sub rolls? Did one of my roommates think “Hey, I should make two delicious subs in the upstairs bathroom!” then accidentally knock the unsliced bread into the toilet, hoping that someone will remove them? No, I’m fairly certain no one would do that, as there is very little counter space.
Could this have been a ‘diversion’ of sorts, perhaps to conceal a rather nasty ‘deposit’ of the bathroom variety? Being as close to an expert in this area as there is, I can safely ascertain that this was not the case. There was no tell-tale odor, nor was the window open to air the room out. And who would go to the trouble of using two fucking sub rolls to cover your tracks when there is plenty of toilet paper available?
No, no, no. This doesn’t make a lick of sense. Not even
one percent of sense. Complete and utter ridiculousness.
I’m sure there is a great reason for this, but I’m at a loss. If you have any theories, please let me know.
In the event that you find something of the same nature in your toilet, I present five possible humorous responses to use in this situation:
“I pooped two sub rolls.” (You can only get away with this if you’re Brick Tamland.)
“I think I’ve been eating at Subway too much. I can just skip the first step now and shit it right out.”
“Definite proof of evolution: first there was mold, and now there’s bread. If we leave this for another day or two, we’ll have a complete ecosystem in there.”
“What, this isn’t the compost bin? I always throw my bread in the toilet.”
“I just pinched two loaves in there.”
And so, I wait and wonder. Perhaps someone dropped off two loaves that were stale and wanted to moisten them. Perhaps I became a sleepwalker and managed to walk to the nearest store (a good ten-minute walk each way), purchased two sub rolls, deposited them in the toilet, and went back to sleep. It is a mystery of Robert Stack proportions.
It is 11:44 PM right now, and the rolls are still there. I just know I’m not moving them, because what if someone comes to my door saying “Hey, who took my two sub rolls that I was marinating in the toilet upstairs? They were almost ready!”
