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I’m at a house party last Saturday, queuing. The only downside of the increasingly ambitious annual bash at this shared house in Homerton, which these days involves a marquee in the garden and live music, is that in the entire four-storey house there is but one toilet, which, as the evening draws on, becomes a bit of a star attraction.
A short Mexican girl joins the queue behind me. Someone leaves the cubicle and goes into the bathroom next to it to wash their hands. When they’re done the Mexican girl indicates the bathroom and asks me, “Are you going to…?” I tell her no, I’ll wait for the cubicle, and she dashes in, emerging triumphant a couple of minutes later. “You know how sometimes you guys piss in the sink?” she grins. “Well, that’s what I just did!”[1] The sink in that bathroom is very high. She doesn’t elaborate on how she managed it, but she requests, and gets, a high five.
[1] Please imagine this being said in the most Mexican accent possible.
A short Mexican girl joins the queue behind me. Someone leaves the cubicle and goes into the bathroom next to it to wash their hands. When they’re done the Mexican girl indicates the bathroom and asks me, “Are you going to…?” I tell her no, I’ll wait for the cubicle, and she dashes in, emerging triumphant a couple of minutes later. “You know how sometimes you guys piss in the sink?” she grins. “Well, that’s what I just did!”[1] The sink in that bathroom is very high. She doesn’t elaborate on how she managed it, but she requests, and gets, a high five. [1] Please imagine this being said in the most Mexican accent possible.
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(Anonymous) 2009-07-13 01:11 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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Well, I hope she washed her hands.
In that sink.