While I initially thought it a good idea to buy the extra large Diet Coke to drink whilst sitting at my desk, I had no idea the levels of calamity and shame that it would soon lead to.
After downing a bubbly 32 ounces in about an hour, I felt the urge to visit the restroom and urinate. Like many other super-important professionals on the go, I wear a cell phone that attaches to my belt. Like a lot of active, relatively young people, I have also recently lost a couple of pounds necessitating a move to use a slightly tighter notch on my belt. Unfortunately, in doing so I contributed to my downfall.
I arrive at the urinal (and I am sure you are all thrilled to get this type of step by step minutae when it comes to the restroom leanings of mine). I unbuckle and unzip. In doing so, I fail to notice that by using a new belt notch, my cell phone has migrated from the comfort and protection of having a belt loop between it and the end of the belt. It is now perilously dangling, much like a half naked, silicon inflated girl on the final stunt of Fear Factor. I fail to notice this. I also fail to notice that the spring clip of the cell phone holder is wearing out slightly. In mid-stream, I notice the cell phone is sliding towards certain doom.
Thought reacted quicker than body, for I watched the cell phone drop into the ever increasing mixture of sewer water and urine in the porcelain below. It wasn’t a happy splash, but it was certainly a splash. I manage to stop in mid-stream, but now I face a conundrum.
My cell phone is now pretty much contaminated with things it shouldn’t ever be touching and I am still not done with business. Thankfully with no one around I forlornly shuffle to the next urinal and finish my activities, with the dread of a yellow tinged phone awaiting me. I flush, in the vain attempt and hope that somehow the flushing water will magicly clean the phone. Of course, my mind knows that the tainted item will never touch my head again.
I now have a slightly soggy, waste infested phone sitting on the floor under my desk. Somehow I don’t think this is going to be covered by my warranty.
Anyway, if I were you and I was really never going to use it again, I’d definitely run it through the dishwasher… and call it while it was in there. That sounds like fun.
While I agree in principle with Ethilrist, you must be sure the phone is completely dry before using it. Use the non-heat setting of the dishwasher, and allow the phone to air-dry somewhere out of the way for several days before trying it. The same trick works with keyboards.
I find that if I unbuckle and fully unzip, Smple Sam has more room to roam and drain, decreasing the always embarrasing need for a Stay-Free Peenie Pad[sup]TM[/sup]
I find that if I unbuckle and fully unzip, Ample Sam has more room to roam and drain, decreasing the always embarrasing need for a Stay-Free Peenie Pad[sup]TM[/sup]
Note, posted twice to clarify hissonners name.
Yes Girls! His name is Ample Sam! Would you like a sample!
To clarify the unbuckle controversy…
Certain types of underwear do not include the handy hole for restroom relief. Specifically this 3 pack of boxer briefs that I bought not long ago. Hence, when those are worn, I have to make a little extra effort to reach the land of giddy bladderness.
You have my sympathy, Mullinator. I dropped my old phone not once, but twice into foul urinal waters.
My (twin) downfalls came about after I develop the habit of talking on my phone in the mensroom. I wouldn’t do anything so crass at the office or during the day, but since most pubs and nightclubs are too noisy to properly talk on a phone, it’s common to retreat to the relatively quietness of the toilets for a chat.
The temptation to pee at the same time is great.
For some time, I daringly developed the skill of maintaining a civil conversation while pressing my phone to my ear with my left hand and manipulating my fly with my right. Merrily talking away to a friend while detachedly watching used beer flow into the urinal became quite the little ritual for me.
Until on dark night, my dinky little Nokia slipped from my hand and into the urinal. The first time, I was too shocked (aka drunk) to comprehend what had happened, until verily I had pissed upon my own cellular phone. Recovering, I stooped (penis still quite protruding from my pants) and scooped my phone from the urine-water admixture.
The call appeared to have ended, whether from the force of the phone dropping into the urinal or from the friend at the other end hanging up in disgust at the sound of urine splashing against the speaker. I guess I shall never know.
Mind reeling (and body not far behind), I made it to the sinks where I rinsed my urine-bathed phone with water. Not the wisest manoeuvre in hindsight, but mysteriously, my phone still functioned; and it was sufficiently urine-free for me to keep using it the nexy day. Selectively erasing my memory with more beer than night helped me forget the horror of pissing on my own phone.
Until I did it again. But that’s a story for another day.
Just let it dry, bring it back to the store and tell them you have no idea why it stopped working. Most call phone retailers don’t give two shits what happened to it. My friends got replaced for free. Just don’t mention what really happened!
A girlfriend of mine did this, only it was in the actual toilet, not a urinal. So the phone actually flushed down the toilet. At school, no less. It made for quite a story to embarrass her by.
