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2006-05-18 - 2:14 p.m. By popular demand... by which I mean, by the demand of my FGB, who is so incredibly and deservedly well-loved by all who know him and could only possibly be made more popular by donning false eyelashes and prosthetic cleavage every second Saturday... but I've heard rumors that he makes a nasty-looking woman although I make it policy not to believe rumors and rather think I deserve to judge this for myself... THE TOE STORY! So I woke up one day last week and my toilet was plugged. Through no fault of his own, the BookMobile Guy had taken a Really Big Poo after using our shower (he is living out of his van this month and thus has taken to such liberties), only minutes before he had to dash off to work. Being the handy ladies that we are, there is no plunger in our house. With many apologies, he exited stage left (my roommate having left for work earlier that morning) and I was left to mourn the passing of my toilet's usefulness, due to its inability to pass those things that I might want to pass. I attempted for several hours to help the situation using boiling soapy water, to no avail. So I went fishing with a yogurt container. It was a stupid and completely useless idea, and gross to boot. For no apparent reason, I deemed it impossible to leave the house to buy a plunger (since I didn't need to Poo) until The Roommate came home from work, since (I reasoned) putting PB in his kennel for five minutes would be daft and I don't really like taking him to SaveMart. He barks the entire time I'm in the store, unless some sympathetic passer-by stops to pet him. So that was my flimsy rationale. Of course, by the time TR got home, we had to leave for a movie. And then dinner. And then, as we hoofed it across the street to the OnlyADollar store, we were dismayed to find it closed. End Day One. Open scene on a dry and boiling morning. Our heroine dons a pair of denim pedal pushers and a cute red tank top and heads off to the SaveMart, with her dog in tow, in search of a plunger. Aforementioned dog barks while Grrl is inside -- yes, the whole time. Grrl rushes. Grrl realizes, after the somewhat-offending item has been scanned through the till, that her wallet is at home. With apologies, Grrl leaves. Exeunt. I walked quickly home (with the dog), grabbed my wallet from off my bedroom floor, and set off walking quickly back (with the dog). En route, I stubbed my toe. By which I mean, PB was passing another dog who was barking at him like a maniac (and of course my angel was not barking back, because he only barks when he's at home), and so I was not watching where I was going. An uneven slab of sidewalk concrete met the stub of my Left Big Toe and the skin split in an instantaneous expression (expulsion?) of blood and pain. The cut, about the size of a half-circle traced around a loonie (a bit bigger than a quarter, for our Amairikan readers), exclaimed itself boldly with every step, squirting its own red carpet twelve inches or so ahead of its own progress. So when I finally arrived to the SaveMart, in my haste I tied PB a bit too close to the door, since he kept stepping onto the Automatic Door Opening Mat the whole time I was inside... rushing from aisle to aisle looking for bandages to add to my purchase of toilet plunger, delicately spritzing the floor of the SaveMart in a bright and luminescent crimson. Somehow, I made it through the obligatory small talk with the clerks about inlaws and the weather, the small talk with the Shelving Person (I don't like the term StockBoy, he was a full grown man) who was investigating the Mysterious Dog Who Could Open Doors and trying, without offense (or success) to avoid explaining my tattoo to him (which is a long, drawn-out process that always gets me queer looks from most people outside of either Black Rock City, a pot-smoke-filled living room, a rave, or an academic building)... (and of course this was no exception and he was confused and slightly weirded out), and limped my pathetic little way home to flush my toe out in the bathtub and FINALLY solve the problem of the Really Big Poo in about twenty seconds with my newly-acquired, super-amazing plunger. THE END p.s. Did you like how I couldn't keep the first-person narrative consistent? Yeah, I thought you did. p.s. My friend Jesse has a beautiful new blog that you should all read: http://catspjs.easyjournal.com/
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