When most of the preparation was done for the church makeover, I needed to change into clothes for the church service. I took my outfit into one of the bathrooms to change, but as soon as I opened the door, a see-through lizard hung off the wall and looked at me as if I was the one who was standing there naked. I said, “excuse me, I can see your spleen…have some decency and put on some skin,” but he didn’t budge. If he didn’t care about his own skin, I knew that he wouldn’t have any respect for mine, so I went upstairs to change in another bathroom.
The bathroom on the second floor had a toilet stall with a lock on it, which seemed like a perfect place for me to change my clothes. After a thorough check for naked reptiles, I locked the main bathroom door and locked the stall as I began to change. I put on my grey suit, purple shirt, and purple and grey socks (shoutout to color coordination) and then I went to exit the toilet stall. But the door had other plans.
I unlocked the door and turned the door handle, but the door handle decided that it wanted to spend the rest of its life with me. I used my mighty strength to turn the handle as hard as I could, but it wouldn’t budge. I thought to call someone to turn the handle from the outside and release me from this crappy situation (toilet stall humor), but then I remembered that the outer bathroom door was locked too! Would I have to live here forever??
If El Chapo could use hydraulic bathtub lift to escape out of his safe house, I was confident that I could use my smarts to break out of this bathroom stall. I looked towards the ground and saw that the space under the stall was too small for me to squeeze through, so that wasn’t helpful. Then I looked up and saw that the space at the top of the stall was just barely large enough for me to climb over, but it was approximately 9 feet up. The toilet seat cover appeared to be stable, so I devised a plan to step to climb on the seat and throw myself over the wall.
I threw my things over the wall and then proceeded to throw my body over. I barely placed my foot on the toilet seat cover when it shattered. What was this lid made out of—a Pringles chip?? I started to panic because it started to look like I was actually stuck there. I started to climb the toilet tank, but it was as shaky and unreliable as the three frat boys assigned to my first group project in Freshman English class at Seton Hall. I couldn’t live in that bathroom! It didn’t even have WiFi in there!
I needed to transform myself from Mr. David Banner to The Incredible Hulk if I wanted any chance of survival. I channeled my inner Indominus Rex and used my upper body strength to pull my body up onto the wall, then I flung myself onto the other side like a rag doll. I was alive. I made it. I survived.
I spent the next few minutes dusting-off my clothes and searching for my dignity as I prepared to leave the bathroom. As I walked out of the bathroom, I had to put on my best “I didn’t just spend 14 minutes fighting a bathroom stall and I almost lost” face.
I should have just used the the Transparent Lizard’s bathroom downstairs because at least if I got stuck there, he could’ve used his transparent foot to open the door from the other side, or his transparent tail to pick the door lock.
That’s what I get for judging a lizard by its skin…or the lack thereof!