On my way to work, I stopped to use the bathroom in Clark. As I walk in, I'm forced to shove my way past a whole bunch of Sorority Girls (tm) who are all vying for the best mirror in which to apply their thirtieth layer of eyeliner. As I go into the stall, I hear somebody stage whisper "Oh my gawd, did you see her shoes?"
Now, my shoes are cheap Birkenstock knockoffs that are already falling apart. Deciding that the condition and cost of my shoes should be the least of their worries, I quietly extracted my mostly-full water bottle from my backpack.
I stood facing the toilet, made some zipper-undoing noises, and poured a litre of water from a height of...oh, say...groin level into the bowl.
Dead. Silence.
I make the appropriate finishing-up noises, and then walk out to smile cheerfully at four absolutely HORRIFIED freshman.
Go figure that one out, bitches.

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