I Waddled to the Bathroom Door
mixes my metaphors like a martini- ritualistic signature
- People are disgusting.
- recovered his shiny silk hat
- removed the latex gloves
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I waddled to the bathroom door, with Tallulah ecstatically aboard for the ride. Sure enough, no lock. I managed to jam one of my discarded shoes underneath, and then leaned back on the door to use our combined weight as a further impediment to unannounced entrances.
I wanted to ask her why she thought her husband might barge in on us. I wanted to ask her why she tracked me down in Contraria, why all the disguises. I had more questions than a one-armed paper-hanger on a frozen pond. Having sex with Tallulah always mixes my metaphors like a martini on roller skates. So, none of my questions were likely to get asked, much less answered, for a little while.
No longer constrained by hiding within my oversized clothing, she had room to execute her ritualistic signature finishing move. I was glad the door was sturdy, and the floor not too slippery, and that Tallulah toned down her usual yodeling crescendo.
I was on the verge of my own crescendo when one of the stalls swung open. The janitor had been cleaning that toilet the entire time. He tutted, then said, “People are disgusting.” The job in there had evidently been strenuous. He mopped his forehead, then recovered his shiny silk hat and long red cape from the hook on the back of the stall door.
Looking in our direction, he slowly removed the latex gloves. He sneered.
“Um,” I said as Tallulah purred against my neck and writhed against the rest of me. “Is your husband by any chance a janitor?”
bonus points for using them in order