So you’re sitting in a coffee shop. An independent one, with a personality. Like your very own caffeinated Cheers.
“Truncation-of-your-name!” the barista says as you walk in, already preparing your Americano with room for cream. You chit-chat with her, perhaps not as wittily as Norm does with Sam, and you get your frequent sipper card stamped.
You set up your laptop and check some emails. After awhile, the coffee starts doing its thing, waking up all parts of your body as it moves through your digestive tract. Hello, Large Bowel!
You go to the stall-less bathroom and do your business. No big deal. And, I literally mean, no big deal.
Are you with me?
You press the flusher and the toilet does its filling thing. And it keeps doing its filling thing and keeps doing its filling thing, but without doing its draining thing. As the water level rises, so does your panic.
You scoop your bag off the floor (even though it’s way in the corner and most likely out of harm’s reach) and step awaaaaay from the commode, to protect your new gym shoes.
Now. What do you do?
(Hypothetically, of course.)