So I am not sure that I want to write this entry, but in the sake of writing what is on my mind… Here go’s.
It has been a while since I have stayed in a hotel, and I am pretty sure that I have never stayed in a hotel as nice as the one that I stayed while I was in Baltimore this past weekend. The service was terrific. Bellhops, people kissing your ass right and left, like six elevators, and there was even two bronze lions in the lobby (I guess to scare off the hyenas?). So to put it lightly, I felt a bit silly at times walking around in my signature cammo shorts, flip flops, t-shirt and hat.
Anyway, after a long day on Saturday, walking around the entire downtown area, going to a baseball game, and eating my weight in pizza, we returned to the hotel for a night of relaxation. We walked into the room, placed the ample amount of beer into the fridge, clicked the television on and started to chill. Along about this time my stomach starts to rumble a bit… It softly whispered into my ear… “Joe, it’s time to go”… I had not gone #2 since arriving in Baltimore (I am normally like clockwork in this area). I thought, “this is not going to be good for the boys… There is no fan in there.” But alas, I knew what had to be done.
“You guys are not going to like this!!!” I said in a joking voice as I closed the door with MAD magazine in hand. Little did I know what would transpire.
After completing my business, I realized that the odor was minimal. “This might not be so bad,” I thought. I hit the leaver to dispose of the waste, closed the lid, washed my hands, grabbed a beer and plopped down on the bed. “Dodged a bullet there… I ROCK” I thought. Roughly 3 minutes later when my brother Jeff needed to “break the seal” I heard “OH MY GOD DUDE” come out of the bathroom… “WHAT DID YOU DO?” Walking around the corner, I expected to see at the very least a decapitated corpse.
Apparently the buildup of material inside of my body was too much for this poor 1986 toilet to handle. The poor little guy was so unbelievably clogged, that even after several attempted revivals (re-flushes), there was not hope of savior. It is semi-torture to watch the water level rise-rise-rise almost to the point of overflow… Then go down-down-down and not deliver you to the promised land. In times like this, I always feel like a high school freshman… I am laughing at all of the hell that my brother and cousin are giving me for backing up a toilet in a semi-fancy hotel, but I am also have the thought “why does this kind of thing happen to me all the time?”. Oh, not specifically clogging toilets (I do not clog them any more than the next guy), but embarrassing things like this. It is also strange to have someone else discover the situation, but I guess that is the really FUNNY part of this story… I wish I could have seen my brothers face the moment he discovered this mess. THAT is funny.
So I call the front desk, tell them the situation without using the words shit, load and gross. The surprising part of this is that a maintenance guy was there in like 2.2 seconds. It was like he was waiting outside the door, hoping beyond hope, that he could do some plunger work his evening. “Hope I get to plunge tonight,” he might have said as he left for work. Anyway… He took care of the situation with the skill and grace befitting a janitor jedi… The man was born to plunge… What a shitty job (haha).
There are a lot of interesting non-poop related stories that happened this weekend, but I will remember the “Baltimore Plunge” for a long, long time.