Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Flushed in Singapore

There is an air of order and efficiency that pervades the Singapore airport and, as is well known, through the rest of its society as well. It's not the newest airport in the world and yet it feels better run and more advanced than many of its younger siblings. It's like the difference between a top of the line but older Mercedes sedan and a new Ford Mondeo. I'm sure the Ford can do more tricks but I'd be much happier in the Merc as I suspect would most.
This cleanliness and organization is wonderful for the most part. Except the toilets. Now maybe I just got a weird one but...

As I'm transferring between terminals F and E in Singapore, I decide to take a bathroom break. Walking in, I notice that everything is spic and span and it smells completely netural. Impressive. Everything looks new and there's even a hook on the door for your coat that HASN'T been broken off. But as I open the door, the toilet flushes.

Obviously a misfire.

Then as I sit down it flushes again.

Well, I joke to myself, the toilet is making predictions. Haha.

*FLUSH*

Wait a second. This is getting a little ridiculous.

As I reach for the toilet paper, *FLUSH*!

Now it's getting personal you copraphobic receptacle. You're a toilet! Your job is to accept poo! What kind of an existentialist crisis are you having by being a toilet that's afraid of poo!
I get up, it flushes!

OK. Now it's war.

I hurriedly pack up my things and try to stay permanently out of the way of the IR sensor. This is not easy to do but not impossible with a few contortionist tricks I learned form my old Kung Fu master. I'm Chinese. I know Kung Fu and I have Kung Fu master. I mean come on, we ALL do. So I've got my coat and a Duty Free bag in one hand and my backpack on my back and the toilet still hasn't flushed.

I win!

I pat myself on the back (contortionist tricks remember?) and walk out of the stall and let the door slowly close behind me. I had beaten the toilet and its wordless insults. My agility had defeated the overzealous IR sensor. I'm the king of the world!
As I walk over to the sink to wash my hands, the door to the stall closes.

And then the toilet flushes.

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