foreign bathroom mishaps
/ Laugh /

Passport Tales – European Bathrooms

During my early college years, my girlfriend convinced me to go to Europe. We landed in Germany and drove to a town called Rothenburg. Seeing a foreign place with such history and beauty had me in awe. The attention to detail on the architecture, the aromas, how the sun was still out at 9pm – it all had me captivated.

Coincidentally, this was around the same time in my life when I realized I might be lactose intolerant. I don’t know why I thought drinking a tall glass of milk would be refreshing. Strolling through the old village, I felt like I was in Nottingham. It looked like a childhood storybook had come to life.

While walking up and down the cobblestone streets, I started to get the bubble guts. Uh Oh! Before long, my shirt was soaking with sweat. Walking with hip lock, I desperately looked for a toilet – I looked like Gumby on a mission. Shop owners would not let me use their bathroom, nor do I blame them. I looked as if I was having heroine withdrawals.

Finally, I found a public restroom and the attendant told me I had to pay some amount of Deutschmarks  to wreck a toilet. People…at this moment counting exact change was not possible. I reached into my pocket and threw a fist full of change at her and crashed into the first stall.

With desperate hands, I was ripping off my belt and pulling down my pants.  I couldn’t get them off fast enough when I realized this stupid toilet had no seat!  WTF?!  I had to do wall squats while taking care of business.  After 15 mins, my arms were shaking! This was me at my worst. But it gets better!

Completely drained and tired, I had finally finished my business. Buckled my belt and reached for the lever with my foot to flush this piece of shit “toilet”. Why in the hell is there a chocolate fountain?! Aaaaaannd this was my first experience with a bidet.

Come to Germany she said…it’ll expand your horizons she said…