...Toilet Stalled  (a parable)...

Fail felicitous, she 

had somehow locked herself 

into one of the offices’ toilet stalls. 

Adjacent one of the 

many common areas, 

this lesser circle of Hell 

had an otherwise ordinary designation 

of universal-access ladies' rooms. 

This of course made said impasse 

a somewhat troublesome predicament. 

She acknowledged that the 

level of one's embarrassment

was relative to one's

sensitivity to the situation 

and in her case, yes,

it was pretty high.

 

Most everyone else would have 

dropped to their knees, 

flattened out and crawled under 

the toilet stall's door. 

 

Most everyone. 

 

She was not of that group. 

After ten minutes had passed, 

there was the sudden 

heightened awkwardness of 

it being known to all her 

fellow business associates that 

on this day, 

at this particular time, 

she had one: 

actually used a public toilet and… 

and two: had been locked inside. 

 

A truly disconcerting predicament. 

 

At around the thirty minute mark, 

she heard someone 

enter the ladies room and 

make their way to the

stall just to her right. 

 

For fear of being discovered 

she lifted feet up off the floor and 

minimized her breathing 

to the point of non-existence. 

This progressed on into the afternoon 

and eventually to close of business. 

 

At this point she might have been tempted 

to crawl under the door, but there was now 

the security alarm to contend with.

Having to deal with 

entry and exit security codes 

was a task which had 

always been beneath her. 

 

The following morning came, and 

when the janitor arrived 

to find the stall locked, 

he automatically assumed that 

a plumbing work order had been placed. 

Days turned into weeks and 

eventually a month passed. 

A particular office understudy 

whom she had once 

publicly chided as worthless 

stepped in to fill her responsibilities 

and things being as they were, 

this mere intern eventually took 

her exalted executive position. 

 

A few days later, 

the company vice-president 

found himself standing at the 

water fountain just at the moment 

the ladies room door opened and closed. 

 

There he was heard to

have made the remark,

"Damn! Smells like something 

   died in there." 

He passes this on to the janitor 

who in turn checks on the 

status of the plumbing work order. 

 

When the plumber shows up 

and opens the stall door, 

he find that the toilet bowl 

was indeed severely clogged, 

but nothing that a rigorous plunging 

would not come to clear.

 

It is shortly after this event 

that the reports of a haunting 

begin to circulate around 

the assorted cubicles. 

 

Something to do 

with the sound of flushing, 

and this followed by 

the eerie sorrowful echo

of a woman gargling. 

 

©04 Jack David Hubbell