The Flusher
Yah, it's true. The circular atrium of the sunlit guggenheim was 3/4 covered in water.
I know cause i was there. I know cause i was THERE there.
A little backstory: a few years ago when i was fielding a little obsession with ethics and moral behavior i decided to target public bathrooms as my cause du jour and it just became this thing where now i can't really leave a public restroom without picking up the loose bits of paper towel or strewn toilet paper that accumulate. So, my friends think it's weird (and dirty) but I figure why should every person who comes in after me have to see the same mess that i see, plus disarray breeds greater disarray/disrespect -- people see a place gone to shit and even the good kind ones miss the wastebasket and say "eh" or leave the sprinkle on the toilet seat or don't flush all products down.
Anyway, it's this issue that i tried to address this past monday after kim and i made it to the guggenheim an hour before closing and decided not to see the artwork and instead to go jack ourselves with caffeine in the museum cafe --"oh but lemme just run in here a second..."
So kim waited outside. Inside the empty corridor connecting the atrium and the cafe, a small line formed.
Inside: I had done my (lite) business, deligently wiped the seat till it was gleaming, activated the auto flush, and saw to her chagrin that the toilet bowl was now filled high with shredded toilet paper. not to standard. But the water looked high and i thought about waiting till it went down a bit. naw. life is about the little risks, no?
I bypassed the autoflush pressed the button above the sensor and watched as water ripped out (normal) and raged (no, no, not normal) upward toward the lip and out, spilling over the seat and onto the floor first forming a puddle around the base of the bowl then into the area beneath the sink then towards me and the door then right past my semi-submerged sandals into the hallway past one security guard then two security guards and kim and everybody are watching in disbelief and mild horror at what is going on (i don't know guys!!) i rush back into the burning fire, no fountaining waters and look for some sort of tap to close but the toilet is roaring white water still and there are no signs of letting up. back into the hallway where walkie-talkies are dispatching help. I look at the whole wet mess one last time.
We slip out the side door, walk past feather earring vendor and hang around the scene of the crime while I grapple with guilt and mild shame. when we go back to check the (once glorious) circular atrium is pretty much covered with a slick 1/2 inch of toilet water except for a small crescent of dry marble near the entrance.
Very pretty.
So yah. I flooded the guggenheim. All i can say is with indigestion, things could've been worse.
Oh Eagle and talon.
(we'll be back from nyc on saturday. see y'all then.)
love,
alice
I know cause i was there. I know cause i was THERE there.
A little backstory: a few years ago when i was fielding a little obsession with ethics and moral behavior i decided to target public bathrooms as my cause du jour and it just became this thing where now i can't really leave a public restroom without picking up the loose bits of paper towel or strewn toilet paper that accumulate. So, my friends think it's weird (and dirty) but I figure why should every person who comes in after me have to see the same mess that i see, plus disarray breeds greater disarray/disrespect -- people see a place gone to shit and even the good kind ones miss the wastebasket and say "eh" or leave the sprinkle on the toilet seat or don't flush all products down.
Anyway, it's this issue that i tried to address this past monday after kim and i made it to the guggenheim an hour before closing and decided not to see the artwork and instead to go jack ourselves with caffeine in the museum cafe --"oh but lemme just run in here a second..."
So kim waited outside. Inside the empty corridor connecting the atrium and the cafe, a small line formed.
Inside: I had done my (lite) business, deligently wiped the seat till it was gleaming, activated the auto flush, and saw to her chagrin that the toilet bowl was now filled high with shredded toilet paper. not to standard. But the water looked high and i thought about waiting till it went down a bit. naw. life is about the little risks, no?
I bypassed the autoflush pressed the button above the sensor and watched as water ripped out (normal) and raged (no, no, not normal) upward toward the lip and out, spilling over the seat and onto the floor first forming a puddle around the base of the bowl then into the area beneath the sink then towards me and the door then right past my semi-submerged sandals into the hallway past one security guard then two security guards and kim and everybody are watching in disbelief and mild horror at what is going on (i don't know guys!!) i rush back into the burning fire, no fountaining waters and look for some sort of tap to close but the toilet is roaring white water still and there are no signs of letting up. back into the hallway where walkie-talkies are dispatching help. I look at the whole wet mess one last time.
We slip out the side door, walk past feather earring vendor and hang around the scene of the crime while I grapple with guilt and mild shame. when we go back to check the (once glorious) circular atrium is pretty much covered with a slick 1/2 inch of toilet water except for a small crescent of dry marble near the entrance.
Very pretty.
So yah. I flooded the guggenheim. All i can say is with indigestion, things could've been worse.
Oh Eagle and talon.
(we'll be back from nyc on saturday. see y'all then.)
love,
alice
1 Comments:
haha, way to go. seems like the little risks can be the most rewarding.
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