Two night ago I was standing before my toilet, doing what people do when they stand before the toilet. I also had my iPhone in my right hand. I know … I know—gross. But don’t pretend you’ve never done this.
Anyhow, I place the cell phone down to pull up my pants, prepare to flush—plop!
My iPhone fell in the toilet.
A toilet filled with piss.
Nasty.
Without a second’s thought, I dove in. One hand. Two hands. Wading through the yellow water, grasping awkwardly, angrily. I pulled the phone out, cursed (I believe the word was, “Fuck!”), placed it down. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.
Amazingly, the phone still worked. Screen remained bright. Functions all, eh, functioned. I exited the bathroom, happy, satisfied, relieved.
Only now, sitting here, did I remember something.
I never cleaned it off.
