Into the public (restroom)

It is an amazing day anytime you have a completely original experience. Even if it is as simple as reading a new word or as profound as traveling to a new country. Today I had one such experience. I walked into a public restroom and the distinct aroma of pancake syrup filled my nostrils. I was not expecting such a pleasant, appetizing smell to come from a public restroom. I looked around in the cupboards and on shelves; perhaps I would find a bottle of syrup-scented bathroom spray that would explain everything. Alas the only item I could locate was an orange can of the typical citrus scent. This bathroom was not a gender-specific bathroom, and I remembered passing a woman as I walked down the hallway. I naturally began to think to myself "does that woman's feces smell like maple syrup?" As baffling of a revelation as that would be, it was a conclusion I could not avoid in my mind. This was a new reality where shit does not smell like shit, but other things. Things you enjoy. Worse, things you want to EAT.

I tried to think up other scenarios so as not to confound myself with a new reality of the world. I thought perhaps this woman was on a diet and as hunger and cravings finally overcame her she rushed to the nearest breakfast establishment (an excellent, exclusively Boise place called Goldy's.) Perhaps she ordered the short stack, thinking she could tame the beast within her with just a small offering. When the time came to cover her steaming, golden hotcakes with a portion of maple syrup, the warm and sweet smell must have entered her nose and she poured a quantity of syrup so massive that when she rushed off to the office bathroom to hastily consume them the syrup came pouring out of the to-go box onto the tile floor. Being a responsible patron of public restrooms, she cleaned up her mess (which is more than I can say for most,) so that by the time I entered the bathroom the only lingering indication of the delicious sap was the distinctive smell.

This is what I told myself to keep the reality of my world intact. That was not a UFO, that was just a weather balloon; just sunlight glinting off the troposphere. That woman's shit does not smell like maple syrup.