Jeremy Discovers Makeshift Wishing Well, Loses Dignity

On a recent trip to Muhlenberg College, I and a friend of mine joined my brother for the Parents' Weekend breakfast in honor of the MC class of 2010. It was a very nice affair, on the whole, and we all had a great time. What transpired following the actual meal, however, constitutes one of the most embarrassing bathroom experiences I've ever had or will probably ever have again.

To truly understand the gravity of what I did in the bathroom and what happened afterwards, I feel I must make sure everyone understands one of the Cardinal Laws of Manhood. That Law, in somewhat abbreviated form, states that no conversation or unnecessary noise-making shall take place in a Men's Restroom for any reason barring natural disaster or an Act of God. And even if God shows up, it's probably in your best interest to stay quiet anyway ... arriving at the Rapture with your pants down is going to be humiliating enough without you trying to explain yourself.

It is with this Law in mind that I thus entered the restroom that morning. Although it was basically full, I found an open stall and proceeded to take care of business without incident. Several minutes later, as I stood up with the goal of returning to my regular life, I suddenly and inexplicably felt something fall out of my jacket pocket, only to hear a quiet series of splashes several seconds later.

Only rarely have I experienced fear akin to that which coursed through me upon making the following realization: some objects of mine had departed my person and fallen directly into the toilet. What was truly shocking was that I did not know the nature of those objects, but merely the possibilities of what they could be. I ran a brief mental inventory at that moment and remembered placing the following items into my pockets that morning:

-my keys
-my cell phone
-my glasses
-some gum
-some change
-a pen

The situation had turned dire. Any one of those objects or some combination thereof could now be floating in Muhlenberg's public cauldron of disease and pestilence. I hesitated to turn around as frightening thoughts cascaded through my head ... what if, for example, it had been my keys? Was I going to have to wash them in the sink? My glasses- how could I possibly wear them again? And the worse thought- if the object was important, how the hell was I going to retrieve it without catching the Plague and/or wanting to kill myself?

Ever so slowly I thus turned around, lowered my eyes, and gazed into the bowl. My heart leapt and I actually elicited a loud cheer as I discovered nothing so important as $0.78 floating before me. Primarily composed of nickels and dimes, the change was actually arrayed in a dazzling fashion that made the toilet itself seem not so unlike a public fountain in Rome, or an enchanted wishing well. If only the basin in question wasn't designed for the disposal of human waste, I might have found the whole situation fairly poetic.

It was then that I made my most egregious error in the whole ordeal. Rather than make a quick getaway and allow the next unfortunate patron of the restroom to find my freshly dropped treasure trove, I decided to instead flush the toilet and destroy the evidence. What ensued was a metallic cacophony as 12-15 coins bounced around the inside of a porcelain bowl, driven by the flow of the flushing itself. Given the nature of the restroom's acoustics, I don't doubt that the thing could probably have been heard by everyone there as well as anyone within 20-30 feet of the bathroom's main door.

Sometimes it's embarrassing enough walking out of a bathroom stall, for whatever personal reason you might have. Walking out of the stall after just convincing the rest of the bathroom that I eat United States Coinage was a different feeling entirely. On the one hand, I was somewhat proud of my clumsy accomplishment and the reaction it elicited. On the other hand, I had offended the Bathroom Law and disturbed a great many men in their search for relief. I hurriedly washed my hands and ran into the hallway, promising myself I'd never again use the bathroom at Muhlenberg College.

I rejoined my brother a minute later. When he asked what took so long, I told him the story ... to which he responded by doubling over and laughing hysterically for a solid three minutes.

On the plus side, that $0.78 constitutes the one and only payment I'll be making toward my brother's college tuition. The Muhlenberg Financial Aid Office can feel free to retrieve it from the Allentown Sewer System any time they'd like.