Member-only story
A Humorous Open Letter
To The Human Hover Board
Don’t make me call you out. You know who you are!
Dear Hoverer,
I get it. Believe me. I get it. You don’t want your hind parts to touch the toilet seat. Neither do I frankly. That’s why they have that contraption on the wall that has what looks like large, but thin, sheets of tissue paper. No, not toilet paper. Tissue paper. Like the stuff you use when you’re prepping gifts. Yeah, that stuff. It’s there for a reason.
Step one — pull one and only one out of the disposer. Don’t be like some of your counter parts who decorate the stall like a Christmas tree with the stuff.
Step two-gently place it on the toilet set. It’s thin after all and will rip easily. Unless you’re trying to get it out of the dispenser. Then I suggest you put one foot on the wall and pull with all of your might.
Step three-sit, don’t sit. Doesn’t matter. At least now the seat is protected. Even if you hover.
Step four-remove the paper and toss it in the trash. Especially if you didn’t heed my advice in step one and used 5874 sheets to cover the seat.
Step five and not the least-grab a wad of toilet paper and wipe the seat. You missed. I’m telling you that you missed. You may have taken the necessary 7.3 minutes to get that single thin sheet in just the right spot. But the second you turned your back that little sucker moved!
And for the love of all things holy, wash your damn hands!
