My least-favorite spot

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My least favorite spot is the area where one places his feat at a public restroom while using the toilet.

It’s a bewildering little nook. At best, one can see the faded shadow of where once sat a splattering of piss. At worse, one can see an actual splattering of piss. Back when I lived in New York and wore jeans, this wasn’t an issue, because—while one sits to poop—jeans can only go so far down the legs. You know what I mean, right? Your jeans—unless they’re ridiculously baggy—are physically unable to plummet to your ankles.

Shorts, however, are generally loose and light, and in the blink of an eye have the capability of slip sliding down … down … down … down—and into the awaiting puddle (or shadow of a faded puddle). It’s kind of gross. Not quite as gross as post-poop toilet water reflection. But nasty and disconcerting. If you’re someone (like, ahem, me) who will wear shorts more than once before washing, it’s a game changer. Really, a game ruiner. Because you absolutely have to wash garments that make contact with piss puddles.

Or the shadow of a faded piss puddle.

Either way, it’s my least-favorite spot.

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