Long time readers know from stories here that there was a time I had significant digestive issues. One of my meds, not the one that muffles the voices in my head, gave me significant bouts of diarrhea. I'm talking colonoscopy prep type episodes. Explosive, corrosive ass soup so odiferous it would make a sewage plant worker tear up in disgust occurred once or twice a week. I threw away more stained tightly-whiteys than you can imagine. I'm off those meds now.
These days I shit cellophane wrapped cubes.
That is a lie.
My bowel movements have become more routine these days. Now, my turds are compact elongated tennis balls, solid and firm. And they routinely stop up the toilet, especially the low water types.
Thursday morning I dropped an especially heavy load of these rocks into the hotel toilet. I wiped with only a little more paper than Sheryl Crow recommends, and flushed. I saw the familiar swirl of water and the slow rise of the bowl contents. I had log jammed another toilet. I finished packing and as a courtesy told the front desk about the situation as I checked out. I was, of course, a bit embarrassed.
Yesterday evening I got an email from the hotel apologizing for the stopped up crapper! They offered bonus points out of their concern that my stay was not perfect. The hotel apologized because I stopped up their toilet. Can you imagine?
For more than a decade I have stayed exclusively in hotels from the Hilton chain whenever I can choose. I have stayed at this particular Hilton Garden Inn more times than I can count. Now you know why.