There’s a story I’ve been meaning to tell two particular people for just over a month now. I feel like they deserve to hear this story: they seemed so excited to have a secular person over for Shabbat. What kind of crazy stuff can we pull on this unsuspecting victim? What kinds of things will he do because he doesn’t know what’s going on? Where can we borrow a goat at such short notice? I’m sure those thoughts were going through their heads, and I’m sure they wanted to get an “ah, that secular guy” story out of the visit.
So here it is, for all the world to see. Or at least the three of you who read this blog regularly.
Friday night. All the strange rituals happened without any incident (to my knowledge), no goat made its presence known, and I think everyone in general was having a good time. Then we sort of collectively decided it was time for bed. Now, in conjunction with this decision, some of us individually decided it was time to use the bathroom. Some of us didn’t, but that’s another, less interesting story.
Now, going to the bathroom is a rather universal experience. Everybody does it, and I don’t feel I need to describe in any sort of detail how it happens. I assume everyone reading this knows. I also assume that when everyone reading this finishes, they flush the toilet. I mean, that’s what I wanted to do.
But there was no flusher. I looked on the top of the toilet, I looked on the sides, I looked on the wall and underneath the bowl… and in a crazed moment of “what’s the least awkward solution to this problem,” my mind stumbled across the strangest thought I’ve had in an incredibly long time: “maybe they have a Shabbat toilet with a removable flusher?”
But then I moved the package of tissues that was sitting on top of the flusher, blocking it from my view, and I pressed it down, and it flushed the toilet.
Crisis averted, I went to bed.