Try to imagine how much I hate it. I can spend hours cleaning it but yet when I’m done, it still looks and smells like an outhouse.
Does this thing even have a floor in it? It looks like it has a subfloor and that’s it. I think maybe I’m an inch away from dirt.
It’s no bigger than a phone booth. My building used to be a big old house which has now been turned into apartments. My bathroom—my phone booth—is basically sitting out in the entryway. It’s an add-on and looks it. Whenever I use it, I always think my neighbors can hear me doing #1 or #2 or both.
I find a lot of spiders in there. I release them outside but I often think they’re finding their way back inside. I’m thinking they don’t like the cooler weather.
Two weeks ago while sitting in the bathroom—and you know what I was doing—I saw a mouse. Being in no position to get up quickly, we just stared at one another. While sitting again a few days ago, the mouse returned. Again, more staring. I think I’m going to name him Mickey. He didn’t make me nervous or try to scare me. He’s sort of a considerate mouse.
I buy a new toothbrush just about every week. Keeping one in that bathroom any longer than that makes me imagine I’m brushing my teeth with a toilet bowl brush.
I’m on waiting lists here in Covington for other apartment buildings to move into. Sooner or later, it’s going to happen. When I inspect these apartments, the first thing I’m going to check out is the bathroom.
I want a decent toilet, something with an actual floor and something bigger than a phone booth. I don’t want to have to put with spiders. I want to think that my toothbrush is going to stay clean.
When I check this stuff out and it passes inspection, I’m taking Mickey the mouse with me. I think we both have suffered long enough.
(Photo found on Google)