How do You Use a Bidet?
I‘ll be out of commission for a few days, kids, so forgive me if your comments are slow to appear. I wanted to leave you with this little nugget to tide you over.
One of the first puzzling things I encountered upon arriving in Buenos Aires was the bidet.
We don’t have them or use them in the US, and though I quickly came to enjoy the ease of cleansing, I had some mishaps. I scalded my nether regions badly, and once I learned to test the temperature, I encountered the occasional bidet that sprayed several feet into the air, dotting my clothes with telltale spray.
The best bidet story I’ve heard was told to me by another American.
In answer to the stupid question, “How do you use a bidet?” The answer is:
Not Like This
He got food poisoning in the middle of the night – the kind where you’ve got it coming out both ends. The bidet’s proximity made for an easy target for the esophageal elimination and he barfed into it in a big way, heaving the contents of his stomach in great, spouting spasms while his intestines mimicked the action on the other end. By the time he was done, he was a limp, naked mess of tears and exhaustion.
A self-described crybaby, apparently unable to prevent himself from sobbing while hurling, you can imagine a crying man who has just been wracked by cramps and pain weeping wretchedly to himself in a small bathroom that stinks of shit and vomit as he’s confronted by a logistical problem: What can he possibly do to clear the vomit filled bidet of its offending cargo?
So what did he do?
Apparently, he cleaned it out as well as he could an then turned the spigot.
Heathen American that he was, he had never tested or used the bidet. He had no idea that turning the handle would unleash a pressure, the psi of which might put certain fountains to shame. Naked and spent, he went into a near blind panic as chunks of his own vomit and more water than he knew what to do with were flung from the bidet reaching the ceiling and walls and landing in his hair and on his bare skin.
I wish you could hear him tell the story. The best part is that it’s more mature than toilet humor. It’s bidet humor.