I am a tall man. On warm days my height can extend six feet seven inches. I often notice that I have more difficulty breathing than others and I think this has something to do with the altitude. My breathing difficulties are enhanced when I am in certain environments- especially bathrooms. It is my belief that the way a persons bathroom looks and smells is a direct reflection upon their inner state of being. I try and stay away from people and restaurants that have unkept and stinky bathrooms. For me a bathroom in disarray is a red flag- a direct and obvious sign that something is not right in that persons life. If I am in a particular kind of bathroom and my breathing difficulties are stimulated- I leave the environment at once and never return. I have left many restaurant’s, friends and acquaintance’s homes and jobs for this very reason. There is nothing that threatens my sense of well being anymore than a bathroom in some state of disarray. This is why I am so surprised that last night a certain prostitute that I invited over to my house said- “Your bathroom smells like a sarcophagus.”
I am always careful to keep my bathroom in a state of cleanliness. My wife refuses to scrub the toilet or tub so every month or two I get down on my hands and knees and do so. Since I am unusually tall, and the toilet in my bathroom is quite low to the ground, I often times miss the toilet and end up getting piss on the bathroom tiles. Sometimes I wipe it up- but usually in the middle of the night I am too tired to care. My wife often burns incense in the bathroom to mask an uncomfortable smell but I never considered that this could be the result of my bad aim. When the prostitute whom I had over briefly told me that she was not interested in doing anything sexual with me because the smell of my bathroom turned her off- I was shocked. My own strategy was being turned on me. This is how I always reacted and now it was being done to me!
As I tried to explain to her that I normally keep my bathroom in the best of condition because I deeply believe that the condition of a persons bathroom is a direct reflection of their soul- she looked at me and said “well then your soul stinks and your crotch probably smells worse (which is just not true).” She escorted herself to the door and left me alone in my underwear to contemplate the riddle that had just happened to me. How could my bathroom have fallen into a state of such degeneration with out myself or my wife noticing it? Are all of the breathing difficulties that I have been having lately a result of my bathroom? How does my bathroom smell like a sarcophagus and I do not even know it? What is happening to my life, my marriage and my mind? I have grown even taller in my discomfort about the nature of my reality. All I could do to contain my anxiety was to grab a sponge and a can of bleach and start cleaning my bathroom in my underwear. I worked hard for hours to achieve a state of equanimity and when my wife came home late that evening, surprised about finding me on my hands and knees in the bathroom- all I could do was look at her and say “how did all of this happen to me?”