As I finished the pants raising I knew that I had made a mistake. My hand brushed something on my pants and they got just a little bit lighter. My worst fears were confirmed as I heard a heavy clink. I had just knocked out my keys into the toilet just as it was heading into it's violent swirl and suck period. No. No! NO!
Still, as freaked out as I was, I was not wading into the abyss to get them back. Much like Seinfeld when his shoelace touched the bathroom floor, these were a goner. Well, maybe I could wash them off and soak them in alcohol. As I was contemplating, I started to roll up my sleeve so I could get them after the flushing was done. There was no way that the toilet would be able to suck up a set of keys with a steel mini leatherman on them, so I'd just have to wait it out. When I finshed the sleeve, the bowl was empty.
At that point I was only left with confusion and pride. How could a toilet suck up a set of keys? They should have sunk to the bottom and avoided the maelstrom. But I guess my relentless key pruning did the trick. I am a big believer in carrying as little as possible on your person at all times. I had only my apartment key, car key, car clicker and leatherman (as opposed to Amber's "Set of a Thousand Keys" containing keys to every door she's ever entered and a tag for every grocery store she's ever shopped at.) So, clearly I had whittled my key set down to the point where it was flushable. (Incidentally, this is now a unit of measure for me, i.e. "I need a bolt for this plank. It should be big, but still flushable.")
Needless to say, I stared at the bowl for awhile. Were they coming back? I tried to get a better angle to look without touching the toilet. Do I flush again? Will that return them or send them even futher to a watery doom? I flushed. They were GONE.
Next step. Do I tell anyone? No. Well at least no one at work. It was just an embarrassing event at the time. I had not yet taken the time to own it and make it a story. So, I left and resumed my workday, somewhat satisfied that when people would talk to me for the rest of the day that I would know something that they wouldn't. It was my secret. Until I had to tell Amber that I needed the spare key she kept in her ridiculously over cluttered key chain. Thanks, Amber.
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