The airport bathroom

As I passed the security check, I rushed to the closest bathroom, as I desperately need a poo!

I trust every arrow they put, following them to my craved destination, I tidily put my luggage one on top of the other, and I lower my trousers.

Here I am. Yeah, I can finally push everything out at once. Doesn’t matter if farts come out, nobody will see me again, everybody departing as far as they booked their flight to.

Here I am. Giving life to monsters, relaxed as ever, as I am pretty much early this time, thinking I am finally coming back, come back to my girlfriend, to my cat, I miss them…

Here I am. Relaxed, thinking about home, when a cascade of water just wet my entire bottoms. WHAT THE FUCK! I spring off the toilet, crossly surprised.

Here I am. Sitting on the looping-self-flushing toilet. Now sitting just on my left cheek, trying to avoid any other flushdrop reaching my arsehole…

After 15 minutes I feel tired, and I sit back normally, now thinking, well, it’s not that bad, after all, it’s a douche-embedded toilet!

So I get off the bathroom, head to the boarding, sitting on my seat… as we take off I can’t stop wondering ‘woah, I forgot to wipe!’