Hey! Did I tell you the news? I’ve got me own toilet. It arrived yesterday in dispatches.
But, with privilege comes responsibility. I am its keeper and cleaner. Immediately I took steps to solve what must be a perennial issue for housekeepers – I started sitting on the toilet like a woman. This change alone reduced cleaning time by approximately 25%. More if you count the time I was blindfolded.
Yet, true and dedicated advocates of Girl-Power, must always be alive to the charge of misogyny. The old ways are changing, but we must be careful not to assert entitlement over what is essentially female territory. It is either for them to concede and share, or for us, to come up with a better way to move forward. And I think I’ve done just that.
How do you like this for an idea? Men should sit in what is traditionally considered a “backward-facing” position.
Besides the obvious advantages – expanding the target area; the ability to spy on your neighbours and enemies; the obvious comfort; you can also read “hands-free.” A newspaper arrived courtesy of Sweet and Sour, in a rare moment of kindness weakness. And now, I’m in the process of reading every word of it, including the classified adverts, just like Uncle Barty used to do.
I read an interesting article this morning, actually. It claimed that crows live by democratic rules. Apparently one of them starts shouting, then another joins in, until the majority of them call on the rest, still quiet, to come and join them. In other words, it starts with a charismatic bully, joined by sycophants and creeps who together bend the will of the quiet ones to do their bidding. I know this is what we call democracy these days, but it sounds more like the way they did it in pre-war Germany to me.
Anyhoo, moving on, how do you like this idea? A toilet seat cover that is designed to lift up at the front, to provide back support? Much like a training potty, but grander. D’ya like it? (© Noddy Boffin @ dickie white enterprises limited). Sat on my new invention as I write this, I am coming to view that it could provide the means of restoring my fortune when I eventually return to England. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.
It all takes me back to the time I lived in my father’s shed, and of all those enemies I left behind in Britain. Now these seem like small problems compared to what I am currently facing. Even Big Eggo, he’s just ignorant, not nasty, and my attitude towards him has entirely changed since I’ve been here. Especially now, as I read that as of three months ago, the UK economy was heading towards the toilet. He was tasked with selling the market with my remaining money as I left, and it seems that it could not have been better timed now. Imagine that, Eggo waiting for me with a big check on the dockside, when I return to a hero’s welcome. You know, the ones with the lights on the edge, like you get when you win the lottery or a quiz show. That will make for an event, two once sworn enemies, now become one. Him all waving and full of congratulations, me disembarking with a toilet seat round my neck, like they do in Hawaii, to promote our new idea.
Perhaps we can invent a two-seater, and sit on it together, like little Nelson Mandella and Pik Botha, to make our fortunes, and solve the world gender inequality debate?
The long sit to freedom. All done in avocado.
Dickie White's Diary 