my moment of matt-ness

Herbie von Smalls · January 11, 2006

i'm not normally one for intimate confessions in public, but somehow i feel duty-bound to relate this tale...

there are three key background details that should be considered in digesting this account:

* our boiler broke down on sunday

* our landlord lives next door

* i'm currently going through a bit of a new year detox, which involves taking colon-cleansing bioceuticals

as if it wasn't bad enough doing without central heating and hot water for the previous two nights, my landlord popped a note through the front door last night to let the wife and me know he would be calling at 9am to install the new boiler and needed access to all the rooms.

being the night owl i am - normally not up before 10.30am - i rued my misfortune and saw this as further evidence of 'a really bad week'. not only would i have to set the alarm to get up, but i'd have to sit at home all day with only a gas fire (more for decoration than for heat) to take the chill out of the air, as i would await delivery of my new MP3 player that spent its christmas at the parcelforce depot awaiting the settling of customs fees - sidenote: the best the customer service department could offer when i asked for a rough time to expect the delivery was 'between 8am & 6pm'; effectively making me a prisoner in my cold home until such time as i would take receipt of the package.

now, having had a late night bath and an early morning number one before the landlord called, i was confident i had taken every measure available to accommodate the scheduled inconvenience. foregoing my detox pills at breakfast ought to avoid a trip to the bathroom, where the landlord and his mate would be working on the pipes, tanks and thermostats. things were about as comfy as i could make them under the circumstances.

'if you need the bathroom, feel free to use our facilities next door,' danny (landlord) told me.

i've previously never had cause to go further than his living room before.

meanwhile, i set up camp in my living room. the tv & internet would keep me occupied while awaiting the parcelforce driver.

it was a long morning. no matter how considerate and inobtrusive danny and his mate made themselves, there's always going to be something quite unsettling about someone having the run of the upstairs floor in one's own home. i did my best to ignore the distraction by telling myself the whole process was a means to an end. to take my mind off the work being carried out, i was mentally composing a letter of complaint to parcelforce and the fact that i had to put on ice all other plans for the day. i would leave home for the gym by 2.30pm, i decided.

around lunchtime, i felt the first faint rumblings of a seemingly angry stomach. 'uh-oh', i thought, 'something's got to give at some stage'. i cursed parcelforce repeatedly and daydreamed of getting a full refund for their shoddy service. a slight discomfort in the abdomen set in, but not unbearable at that stage.

2.30pm had now passed, i had another half an hour in which to leave for the gym, before i would have to scrap the idea. the slight discomfort was developing into a dull, constant ache. i thought a few gaseous discharges may have diffused the time bomb, or at least delayed it long enough for me to make it to the gym. sadly, they were not forthcoming and the ache was becoming a sharp pain.

'danny,' i said 'do you mind if i pop next door to use the bathroom?'

he was only to happy to oblige and led me in through his front door. how he must by now be regretting his hospitality. i paused for a split second to bid his wife a 'hello' as she was cooking an aromatic curry.

once in the bathroom, i made for the lemon-coloured throne. i don't recall ever soiling yellow porcelain before.

i'll spare some of the more intimate details of my labours - suffice to say it was a panful of huge, healthy, fragmented logs, which floated... the kind which make one gasp in wonder that one's rear aperture can dilate so fully.

it was such a swift motion, that i reckoned danny & his missus would assume i had been for a long slash and was fastidious in washing my hands.

that was before the problems began...

i flushed with all the adroitness of a seasoned lavatory user. as i turned back a moment later, having washed and dried my hands, the implications of my action whizzed through my head.

nothing had budged from the bowl.

naturally, i flushed again, this time jerking the handle a couple of times in an effort to increase the water flow.

still nothing budged.

my options were few.

i looked for a bucket. there was none. i flushed a third time, having waited a couple of minutes for the cistern to replenish. still nothing. all the while i could only think of them being all to aware of the length of time i was taking, not to mention all the flushing that was going on.

there was only one course of action left to me, before i'd have to go in with my hand(s). i brandished the toilet brush like a cutlass, flushed for a fourth time, all the while slashing and chopping with the nylon-bristled weapon. better luck, a third of the contents had gone.

a further flush, more poking and prodding and i was left with the final third. the white brush now resembled an albino hedgehog that had somehow broken out in large freckles.

another flush and the muddied water still retained two sizeable lumps. with steely determination, i plunged the brush into the pan as i flushed for a seventh time, i was rewarded with a generous splash of ice-cold liquid, recoiling for an instant, but just as quickly plunging the brush deeper towards the u-bend.

finally, it was no more. i felt like captain ahab - more relieved than triumphant. i cursed the monster that had wrestled with me through the choppy waters.

a thorough re-washing of the hands later, i closed the bathroom door behind me.

feeling somewhat lighter than when i had ascended them, i skipped down the stairs and without breaking stride bade a cheery, yet unboastful goodbye to danny's wife as i raced for the relative privacy of my living room.

back in my house i could hear danny and his mate upstairs, oblivious to the commotion i had wreaked on the other side of the wall to where they were working. i can only imagine what danny's wife's comments on my visit will have been. i suspect the two guys will be under strict instructions from her to complete the work tomorrow morning in our bathroom pronto.

i never got to the gym. parcelforce finally called at 3.15pm.

i know where i'm laying the blame

Edited January 11, 2006 by Herbie von Smalls

Gunga Din · January 11, 2006

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