Monday, October 5, 2009

We now interrupt a post from Nancy ...

... to bring you a post from Lori. I swear I didn't get a post from her on Thursday, so I must've missed it (sorry Lori!) and I wanted to get this in. So read this and the last 3 guest posts please (read about ugly men making better sperm, abortion choices when it's not your embryo on board and a sweet ttc success story) and I'll be back tomorrow to tell you all about my fabulous trip, the 2 bloggers (Brandi and Mareike) I met, the celebrity I saw and the fucking fabulous pancakes I ate. Now is the post from Lori ....


How in the world could *I*, little ole tattoo-less, plastic surgery-free, piercing-fearing, never-even-cussed-on-the-Internet me, how could *I* possibly think I could fill Nancy's shoes for the day?

Nancy will tell you that certain bloggers may not be as sweet (IRL) as they appear.

I've chosen one of my favorite stories from my Weebles Wobblog archives in hopes that you'll find it Nancy-worthy.


The Coffee Shop
So you're sitting in a coffee shop. An independent one, with a personality. Like your very own caffeinated Cheers.

"Truncation-of-your-name!" the barista says as you walk in, already preparing your Americano with room for cream. You chit-chat with her, perhaps not as wittily as Norm does with Sam, and you get your frequent sipper card stamped.

You set up your laptop and check some emails. After awhile, the coffee starts doing its thing, waking up all parts of your body as it moves through your digestive tract. Hello, Large Bowel!

You go to the stall-less bathroom and do your business. No big deal. And, I literally mean, no big deal.

Are you with me?

You press the flusher and the toilet does its filling thing. And it keeps doing its filling thing and keeps doing its filling thing, but without doing its draining thing. As the water level rises, so does your panic.


You scoop your satchel off the floor (even though it's way in the corner and most likely out of harm's reach) and step awaaaaay from the commode, to protect your new gym shoes.

Now. What do you do?

After you've contributed your answer below, you may wish to click over for an analysis of the responses I got.


Lori, the Examiner for Open Adoption, writes for Adoptive Families magazine and for her own blog, Weebles Wobblog. She and Chicklet find and review sassy stuff at All Thumbs Reviews (see that badge down there, on the right? -- I love them!). She is currently retelling her amazing adoption story at Drama 2B Mama. Once in awhile she even feeds her children, Tessa (8) and Reed). But only when her Google Reader is clear.


nancy said...

oh. my. god. Lori! What a horrible horrible horrible experience! (And by the way, totally "nancy-worthty")

What would I do? First I would stop the flow of water by turning off the water outtake valve. Then I'd look for a plunger. Then I would tell the front. And I'd be mortified. I'd probably lie and say it was running when I got in the bathroom and it wasn't from me!

Lori, thanks for taking the time to post for me. I'm sorry I didn't see your email on thursday. I rechecked all emails, yet I didn't see it anywhere - spam, trash, inbox, nothin'! But I hope putting it out today makes up for me missing you. :)

Brandi said...

I would have to say that I would lie. I would walk up to the front and say that I walked into the bathroom and it was like this. I would then gather my belongings and leave.

Lavender Luz said...

No worries at all, Nancy! Just didn't want you to think I was a slacker.

You have more plumbing confidence than I do.

Brandi...that option was a serious contender (um, I mean, it WOULD BE if this story were about ME).

Sarah R said...

OMG, that would suck! I'd peek around and see if there was a plunger, and if I didn't see one, I'd make a mad dash out the door as long as nobody else is around! YIKES!

jenn said...

Wow. I have to agree that after looking for a plunger (probably wouldn't have presence of mind to stop the water!) I would lie & then run out & not come back until I had drastic changes made to my appearance!

Kristin said...

I think I would take Brandi's option and lie through my teeth about it.

Mareike said...

Too hilarious and totally Nancy worthy.

I think I would do my best to fix the problem and if I couldn't I'd probably find towels to fish the solids out of the bowl and throw that in the trash and then tell the management there was a problem with the toilet.

edenland said...

Well. Pffffffft. I said it in your original post and I will say it again ... I would calmly sit down and act as if you don't know anything about ANYTHING. If, you know, this situation actually HAPPENED.


areyoukiddingme said...

Yeah, I'd probably pretend like nothing happened...although that same thing happened to me at my in-law's house, where I couldn't exactly pretend it didn't happen. I won't even tell you how I solved the problem but there was no plunger available...