#7 ~ Urine + Technology = ??!!

Normally I don’t sit on public toilet seats. Something prevents me and I just end up in a low squat. Yet it seems to work, very few problems, until today. Turning to place the toilet roll into the toilet bowl, my jean’s pocket caught on the lip of the lid and there was a little ‘plonk.’ I didn’t think too much about it. Then I paused. My jean’s pocket felt a little lighter. Why? No vaseline, no IPod, no phone – phone. I let out a little laugh and peered into the toilet bowl. Then the conundrum struck. Standing dumbfounded in a cottage toilet still in a half crouched position, I realised: my phone is in the toilet. And not just in the toilet bowl. Due to momentum, it had slipped into the inside bend of the toilet pipe. I laughed. ‘Naaah.’ I didn’t have to put my hand in the toilet. I looked again.

It’s funny, when you re-evaluate the contents of  a toilet bowl you forget that its your urine plus the pre-placed toilet water. I looked back at my hand. This wasn’t just a case of fingers being dipped quickly into the toilet. It was my whole hand. I tried the toilet brush, it wasn’t dexterous enough. Obviously I considered just flushing the loo. My phone was about to reach it’s 3rd birthday and it was an ‘old skool’ Samsung that couldn’t even read Multimedia Messages. It was also the exact same phone as my twin [ stop laughing.] Perhaps it had reached the end of its natural technological life.

But then I was in a cottage in the middle of a west-country hamlet. You flush a brick phone down the toilet, there goes the sewage. An image of pipe tunnels being blocked and an explosion worse than the end of Chicken Run flashed across my retina. Next thing I knew, still laughing in the horror of disbelief, my hand was lowering itself into the discoloured liquid. It hesitated before breaking the meniscus. My hand was in a urine filled toilet. Fingers scrabbling up the pipe I felt my devious phone slip into my palm. At this point  I had had to use my hand gymnastic skills so effectively the toilet-urine-water was half way up my wrist. Oh-my-gosh.

Whilst the actual foraging had seemed like a freeze-frame from Crouching Tiger, the moment the phone was securely recovered everything moved like Michelle Yeoh on an angry day. My wrist whipped itself backwards, I pivoted with agile speed, and spun the taps. First-things-first:

Soap (there was no disinfectant) + Hot water + Vicious Scrubbing.

Once I felt my skin was fairly exfoliated I then washed the phone.

Soap + Hot Water + Vicious Scrubbing + plus the late knowledge that Water + Mobile = Stupid.

I washed my pee-pee stained phone.. Who washes their phone?

Suffice it to say my phone responded like a cat to water. It hissed, shone a bright light and resolutely refused to communicate to me (or the wider world).

Although the decease of my phone was a sobering moment, the sight of my hands altruistic action is far more sobering.  It basically says to me : You were so worried about messing up the sewage and being disconnected you stuck your hand down the toilet – here my mind kisses its teeth – for an OAP Samsung.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , ,

6 thoughts on “#7 ~ Urine + Technology = ??!!

  1. Boye says:

    Bravo on confronting a relatively baseless taboo. As you know, your urine is sterile (or should be so long as you do not have a UTI), the water already in the bowl actually contaminates your urine. Wiping the phone down with an alcohol wipe would have been less harmful. You may still save the phone by opening the compartments (take the battery, sim card out) and inserting all the pieces into a bag of rice (preferably one you no longer have plans to eat), leave it in for at least 3 days. Turn on and should work.

    Although you have convinced yourself of the need of a new phone, and ibeing urine and soap intoxicated is as good a reason as any.

  2. Venus W. says:

    Fantastic. You had me rolling with your detailed account. I especially enjoyed the Crouching Tiger reference. You gave good insight to one of my biggest fears!! :)

  3. […] Since last nights hilariously catastrophic yet inevitably mundane experience, I have realised that I am a said hoarder. I have yet to display the physical signs, but the scent is appearing. It emanates from me in little whiffs that only my acute hoarder-alert nose can smell. However my hoarding is not related to the material. It is a psycho-emotional form of hoarding. The desire to savour memories. […]

  4. Toilet chubby says:

    I would just like to share with you that I have also dropped my phone down the toilet, although it wasn’t filled with piss at the time. I can however feel your pain, there really is something disconcerting about putting your hand into the water, and it truely is deeper then it looks.

    It reminded me of the scene from trainspotting where the man dives into the toilet, my hand felt as if it were gone for a much longer period of time than it actually was. Maybe there’s an entrance to narnia down there? And perhaps my excrement is slowly, but surely, polluting that land, and killing off the Narnians.

    Strangely, that thought is making me await my next trip to the bathroom with great enthusiasm.

    • Kéhindè says:

      Your comment made me laugh so much. I think there definitely is an entrance to Narnia down there. I assume however, that’s the door the White Witch took. I’m glad you enjoyed the post, and your creative answer makes me want to read some of your work, if you have any. To memorable times in the bathroom :)

  5. […] blog, you will acutely understand the palava I have had with phones. Whilst one dropped down the toilet and then was washed in a sink, the other decided to take a nap on a train and never made it back […]

Let me hear your Voice

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: