To the untrained eye this appears to be a mere picture of a cell phone — not very exciting, no. I mean, sure there’s some nasty elephantitis growing on Joe’s thumbnail, but that’s not the point. The point is that the photo isn’t your usual cutting-edge road journal fodder.
To those of us who live on a bus with Joe it’s much much more than his cell phone… it’s his *Shit-phone* now that he dropped it into the toilet at Assumption College. After he took a crap, after he wiped, but before he flushed… yes, the worst possible combination, everyone’s worst nightmare, Joe’s reality: Reach in and grab it? Scoop out the turds first? Flush it down and go directly to Radio Shack and start over? Please keep in mind there was piss *and* shit in the toilet. Who makes #2 without a little #1? Not me. Not Joe.
Joe reached in and carefully retrieved his new Shit-phone from the toilet (supposedly without touching any poop with his hand), wiped it off, dried it under the electric hand dryer, and has been using it since, despite the short-term consequences… (“Joe — is our connection okay? It sounds as if you’re making a sniffing noise”) and the inevitable long-term consequences… (Shit-phone cancer, etc.)
Joe thinks we’re making a big deal out of nothing (for instance, I refuse to “call him” anymore). His phone works, and he’ll continue to use it. Fortunately for everyone, my computer comes equipped with a special chemical-detecting “Fecalscope” function and you won’t believe what it shows us…
You gotta get rid of that thing, Joe! For Chrissake, it’s still on your hands! The 9 button’s covered in shit!