Never Take Advice from the Toilet Stall Graffiti

“God, why does this shit happen to me?” Ian drunkenly shouted with his head in the toilet. With a mighty heave, the contents of his stomach splashed into the unsavory hodgepodge of waste that only a broken toilet at a hole-in-the-wall bar could amass.

Ian rose from the porcelain prayer position and as he left the stall, his eyes went to the graffiti on the bathroom door:

“Don’t worry. There are plenty of fish in the sea”

It was like magic. He suddenly didn’t care about Stacy leaving him anymore. He felt better, way better, in fact.

It wouldn’t last.

A week later, Ian was back at the bar again, drinking away the shame of getting fired for having sexual harassment complaints filed against him at work by several co-workers.

“God, why does this shit happen to me?” Ian cried. Another night of too much alcohol forced him over in the clogged toilet. He was certain his vomit from last time was still floating in there. He saw the graffiti from last time was crossed out and replaced with:

Choose a job you love, and you’ll never have to work a day in your life

As he read those words, the shame magically disappeared. He could do better, much better, in fact.

It wouldn’t last.

A month later, Ian was back again. He couldn’t find a job he loved and the rent was past due.

“God, why does this shit happen to me?” Ian questioned and then vomited again. The graffiti was crossed off once more and replaced with:

No need to worry. It will all be over soon

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