Caca Catastrophe: A Satire

It was a cool autumn morning at Lampasas High School, an average day for the quaint town.  The wind blew peacefully and the sun glistened on the horizon; dew dripped from window panes and blossoming flowers in harmony. I sat, minding my own business, experiencing the luxury of formal education when, out of the blue, a number two was afoot. This, a consistent, non-negotiable activity that every living organism experiences, should not be complicated for a defecation-lover such as myself. I rose from my student-assigned throne, honing in on the teacher’s desk. A burning question loomed upon my mind.

“May I use the restroom?” I spouted. 

The halls spanned out in several directions as I left the classroom, the corridors expanded the vastness of the interior architecture. I trudged through the tide of toddlers to make my way to the loo. 

Upon arriving, I shoved my way in and leaped to an open stall. However, in similar ironic fashion, every stall was open permanently, no thanks to the Lampasas High School bathroom-stall-door bandit. Despite this severe and completely unavoidable inconvenience, I began dropping the kids off at the pool. 

“Finally, the opportunity to remedy my irritated abdomen,” I thought to myself. “Absolutely nothing could go wrong in this situation I’ve found myself in.” 

The deed was done. Feeling relieved, I shifted my sight to the right. Alas, the wall was barren where the toilet paper should be — vandalized and heavily tampered with. I began spiraling into delusion, hysterically searching for anything to finish the job. The walls melted and I could feel the ground beneath me begin to sink and give way as I lost the general concept of reality. I was out of options. I felt a sense of imminent doom wash over me. Then, a breakthrough idea sprouted from the roots of my psyche.

“Surely there are several stocked toilet paper dispensers in the OTHER completely open stalls!” I exclaimed. “Good thing I won’t even have to shut the door behind me, one of my biggest pet peeves is having privacy in the bathroom. I can’t stand shutting a door behind me before relieving myself.” 

After an in-depth and extremely facetious yet blunt conversation with myself, I knew what had to be done. I stood up from the porcelain throne and made my way to the other stall. Again, empty. In fact, the entire restroom was completely rid of paper products. Additionally, there was no soap to wash my hands. 

“This is perfect!” I pondered. “The CDC recently recommended that everyone stay as dirty as possible and touch each other to halt the spread of COVID-19. As a strong believer in medical science and disease professionals, not having any single thing to wash my hands with really makes me ecstatic.”

After being astonished that the restrooms even had running water, I skipped back to my class to begin my educational journey once more.

 I have now vowed never to use the restroom again, no matter the situation.