Page 57 of To Hell With It
I frowned.
‘To stop me burning,’ she said with a wink, and I wanted to die right there and then.
ChapterThirty-Two
Imanaged two films –The HolidayandCaptain Phillips– before I couldn’t hold my wee in any longer. I’d only had a small glass of red wine part way throughThe Holidayso had no idea how it had happened. Bunty had been three times and had come back with wet hands twice. I’d wanted to ask her if they’d run out of paper towels but didn’t because she fell asleep shortly after sitting back down. I wasn’t sure how I’d get past her without waking her up and I had no idea how long old people napped for. Or how old she actually was.
When she did finally stir, my tummy was so tight and swollen I looked like I’d grown a baby. I picked up my small bottle of sanitiser and slipped it into my back pocket. I could see the toilet light on, the red strip to tell me someone was inside, and prayed whoever it was had OCD as bad as me, which was unlikely but still possible.
I knew this because only two per cent of the population (about 156 million people – which sounded way more when I said it like that) suffered from OCD. I tried to remind myself that people without OCD were still hygienic, that most people wouldn’t leave a mess in a toilet, right?
The only problem is that because of my OCD, I always lifted the lid of the toilet seat to make hovering easier and saw everything that most people didn’t normally see. I don’t need to say what that is (lift a toilet lid next time and see for yourself).
I heard the sound of the flush, the whoosh of the tap a couple of times (at least whoever it was had washed their hands) and then stepped back for a man with a big beard to pass. He didn’t look at me and I knew why. It gusted out the moment he opened the door. It smelt like the silage at Sally’s farm and hit the back of my throat, my nose, my skin, all in one blast.
I did a quick visual check before I entered. The handle was one of those flick handles that had to be pulled with a finger to open so I couldn’t use my elbow but I could sanitise my fingers once I’d got in. I turned and gulped whatever bit of fresh air I could before I entered.
I slipped in sideways.
I moved slowly so as not to touch anything.
I locked the door.
I sanitised.
I turned slowly, ensured nothing touched the toilet then lifted the toilet seat.
I sanitised.
I hovered.
I had a wee.
I reached for the toilet paper with my clean hand.
I wiped any splash back from the toilet basin (because that happens when you hover).
I closed the lid and flushed with my finger (I couldn’t use my foot because it was a push flush).
I washed my hands.
I washed the tap.
I washed my hands again.
I dried my hands.
I unlocked the door holding a piece of tissue then turned, lifted the lid of the toilet and dropped it inside, keeping my foot elevated as it held open the toilet door.
I washed my hands again (yep, balanced on one foot).
I washed the tap again.
I washed my hands again.
I dried my hands again.
I opened the unlocked door with my foot.
