Ridiculous One Night Stand

This is an absolutely true story.

I knew this girl...let's call her Jen. Jen was a beautiful, awkward and slightly neurotic girl who used to frequent this bar on the Lower East Side every Thursday.

She and some friends would hit up happy hour, and every week would run into the same guy; let's call him Mike. Mike was 20-something, handsome, suave, debonair, and an all-in-all hunk (surprisingly, not me). For years she was looking for a fantastic fantasy guy and this was pretty much him. Her search for Mr. Right had come to an end.

Each week she saw him, and each week she attempted to talk to him, but her nerves got the best of her. Finally, after about two months of hemming and hawing, she got up enough [liquid] courage to talk to Mark.

They spoke for hours; from the same town, enjoyed the same books, had the same sense of humor. Needless to say, she went back home with him.

His house was a the Manhattan version of a palatial mansion; a huge loft with brand new furniture, picturesque views and high ceilings. They made true, passionate love and it was special. Jen's dreams were finally coming true.

The next morning Mark woke Jen up with breakfast in bed. He kissed her on the forehead and said that she could take as long as she wanted to leave, but he had to go to work. She wrapped herself in his huge comforter and smiled a huge smile: PERFECTION!

Then, her stomach started grumbling; the international sign that she needed to go to the bathroom. I will spare you the specifics, but let's just say she went number two. Reaching over to flush the toilet, she noticed that...it wouldn't flush.

Frantically, she tried again and again. Over and over, she slammed on the lever...yet it did nothing.

What did she do? Ran into the kitchen and grabbed a plastic sandwich bag, ran back into the bathroom, reached into the toilet and removed the offending item.

Running back to the kitchen, she washed her hands. In a hurry to leave, she grabbed her stuff and left as quickly as possible.

As soon as the door to the apartment building closed behind her, she realized something:

She left the bag of poop on the kitchen counter.

She frenziedly ran to the door and began to grab the handle, shaking it back and forth, but there was no hope. She was late for work and there was nothing to do, so she left.

Meanwhile, he must have come home to a huge surprise. Obviously, he had a good time too, but coming home and finding a huge bag of poop on his kitchen counter must have given him a pause for thought.

She called him a few times and he never returned her phone call. Her fantasy man was fantastic, but a big ole bag o' poop got in the way of true love. Isn't that how it always is?