Align [1]. As soon as she got home she took the first dose and waited anxiously in the bathroom for everything to go back to normal. After an hour, she pulled up her panties, disappointed there was no instant doodie. She would have to wait.
A few days later, she was overcome with amazing gas that she would only describe as a "rotten eggs that just got a perm." She could not leave the house -- but she was excited. She thought it had to be a good sign. Later that day, she felt the familiar-and-longed-after rumble-in-the-Bronx feeling. She ran to her toilet and released the most beautiful and symmetrical poop she had ever seen. "It was like ribbons!" she later gushed.
The beautiful ribbon doodie went on that way for days, and for days Kelly was blissfully happy. Until yesterday.
After making her morning ribbons, she felt fresh and ready to start her day. She flushed and then turned on the shower. About to get in, she noticed that something was wrong in her toilet: the gigantic ribbon of poop had not gone down the pipes like a good doodie, but had used half of its girth to plug her toilet. The other half was menacingly making its way with the rising water, elevating closer to the top of the bowl.
Bolts of terror ran through her body. That. Can. Not. Escape!
In her mind's eye, she saw the evil ribbon snake doodie making its way over the lip of the bowl and on to her pristine bathroom floor. If it escaped the bowl, anything could be possible. It could slither out into the living room. She envisioned her entire apartment covered in slimy black poop particles.
She stealthily reached passed the evil ribbon doodie and turned the water nozzle off. A wave of relief washed over her body. She was safe. The bowl started to drain and she got into the shower.
When she was done, she looked into her toilet, expecting to find the evil snake of poop long gone. She was wrong. The toilet was now void of any water, but the long piece of black ooze was still there, clinging to the sides of her toilet bowl and blockading the hole in the bottom that leads the sewer. It was holding her toilet hostage.
Furious, she went into the kitchen to find a tool. As she looked at her lovely silverware, she couldn't bear the thought -- if it touched the poo, she would have to throw it away. And she had gotten that silver for her wedding. Even if the marriage was over, she couldn't dip its silvery stems in after that poo. She just couldn't.
She got out her phone and called the plumber. He arrived within the hour. He was handsome. "Where's the fat guy that normally snakes my clogs?" she thought.
The plumber walked through her kitchen, almost to the bathroom.
She was suddenly sweating, almost panting. "AGH, AGH!" She was glad that her desperate screams were in her head and could not be heard by adorable plumber. "Cute man is about to see my hideous poop! AGH! Must. Stop..."
"WAIT!" she yelped, with more desperation than the adorable plumber probably understood. He looked confused. "It's um, 'dirty.'" Her voice said 'dirty', but her tone was trying to convey so much more.
He was unfazed. "No problem, miss. I'm a plumber. I'm sure I've seen worse." He walked towards the bathroom.
"Wait!"
He was patient. "Yes?"
"I mean, it's really dirty. I'm... I'm sorry."
"Don't worry. It's my job." He threw her a smile that was meant to make her feel like everything was going to be okay. But everything was not okay. She wanted to leave, but she realized that would be a bad move. Instead, she skulked off into her bedroom to act like she was very busy and not at all totally and completely focused on the mortifying situation of having one of the only cute single men in Manhattan actually in her apartment and about to battle it out with her incredible snake of poop.
She was intently not reading a book when he peeked in to her room. "Hi."
Her heart leapt. Maybe he was not grossed out by her poop. Maybe he liked it and was going to ask her out! Ew, wait -- scratch that. Maybe he had seen past it and was mesmerized by her beauty and was going to ask her out.
"This," he said, holding up his plumber's snake that had clearly been beaten by her toilet snake, "is not going to work. Got a hanger?"
Oh. God. She hung her head as she gave him what he asked.
"I'm also going to need a garbage bag."
Half an hour later, he returned to her. He was sweaty, looking exhausted, and holding the large green garbage bag. "All done."
She thanked him. She even asked him if he might like a glass of water, but he was gone before she could ask, "Bottled or tap?"
She looked into her bathroom. He had left it spotless. He had not left his number.
