grodscorp@grods.com
Our favourite weirdo is still, unfortunately, a regular customer and has recently become a regular shitter too. We have a number of regular shitters (who order a coffee and then disappear into the toilet for five minutes or more) but Weirdo is the worst. Her average is ten minutes and her record is 19 (doubt not, we time her.) Almost every day she orders a skinny (she thinks) cappucino and her spanakopita and salad, eats it slowly and then runs to the toilet. The running bit is no joke — Dishpig has observed her through the kitchen window, calmly closing the door from the cafe to the back yard and then breaking into a sprint for the outhouse.
Last weekend she graced us with her presence twice and Dishpig and Greg had had enough by the second visit on Sunday. She ran off to the toilet so we checked the time and got on with our job. Every now and again, Dishpig would take advantage of the toilet's light switch in the kitchen and flick it on and off for a bit. As if she would say anything when she came back in.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
15 minutes.
Greg starts to run his bulimia theory by Dishpig again but Dishpig ain't buying it. She's a serial shitter — can pick 'em a mile off. At 16 minutes she emerges, picks up her bag and walks out without a word.
A few minutes later it's time to go and clean up the courtyard and toilet in preparation for closing time and Dishpig wanders into the outhouse. Dishpig walks back into the shop. “Greg. She's not bulimic.”
“What?”
“I've got proof.”
Dishpig returns to the toilet, cursing harder than ever his poor excuse for a living. Presses flush button. Water rises, and rises, and rises, with a little floater of turd on top. Dishpig weeps quietly in the courtyard for a few minutes and, thanks be to the God of dishes, the cubic metre of bog roll had softened up enough to suck down the s-bend and the worst had passed.
Next time Weirdo comes into the cafe Greg and Dishpig are going to put an 'out of order' sign on the dunny door.
