A Story for Dirty Al

What is it with the upper Midwest and spring loaded toilet seats? Regional thing? Really, the only area I encounter them.

Dirty Al says I should tell more stories and do less political stuff so here is a story for Dirty Al, circa 1970.

Our group was going through an intense management course and were given a mystery shopper type of assignment. That lasted just long enough to find a friendly bar where we could strategize. While none of us were small, Bill was NFL lineman sized. After an hour of so, he went to use the sanitary facility.

The facility had a spring loaded seat. Bill locked the stall door. Undoing his garments, he pushed the seat down, turned, and sat down on the bare rim; the seat having returned to the upright position. To his dismay, he was stuck. Compounding his problems was the need that took him there and his decision to flush, hoping that would release him.

Eventually, another of our group visited the facility. Bill requested assistance. Soon, our entire group was in the room. Everyone was a sergeant and none a private but a plan was devised. The tallest member was lifted over the stall door to release the inside door latch. This took two attempts. It took three men pulling to get Bill unstuck. Had alcohol not been involved, the operation might have been conducted quietly.

Those in need used the facility while Bill got himself organized. When all were gathered at the table, the bartender came over with the bill and a request to find another establishment to patronize.

Since then, I have always been leery of mechanical devices in sanitary facilities.