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“Turn right onto Gabinetto Lane.”
I turn the wheel to obey the navigation system’s instructions. “3366 Gabinetto Lane…” I mutter to myself, “3366… ah.”
I pull up onto the driveway of my boyfriend’s house in my 2020 Mazda CX-5. I put the car in park and quickly get out, grateful to stretch my legs. It took a few hours to get here. I grab my gift and walk up to the front door. I wipe my free hand on my jeans, then move the small succulent so I can wipe the other. I’m a little nervous--it’s the first time I’m going to meet Bill’s parents.
I take a deep breath and knock on the door. I wait a few seconds, but no one comes. Should I have rung the doorbell instead? I’m reaching up to knock again when the door flies open. I involuntarily take a step back, surprised by how forcefully the door was opened.
“Ahh! You must be Anna! I’m Molly, Billy’s mom! Come in, come in!”
I step inside and open my mouth to say hello, but Molly starts talking before I have a chance.
“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” She was obviously expecting me to say yes, because she just goes in. “Just so you know, I’m a hugger. Oh, it’s so great to finally meet you!”
She squeezes me a bit too tightly, and I’m afraid I’m going to drop the succulent on the floor. Thankfully, I manage to balance it while hugging her back. That would have made a terrible first impression.
“Come in, come in!” she says once again.
“T-thank you,” I manage to say. “I, uh, I brought this for you,” I say, offering the succulent.
“Oh, that is so sweet! You didn’t have to do that!” she gushes, taking the small plant from me. “Ugh. Where is that Billy? BILLY!! ANNA’S HERE!”
“Coming!” I hear him call from upstairs. I blush as he jumps down the stairs. He looks really cute today, in plain jeans and a t-shirt. He must have just taken a shower, because his hair is wet.
“Billy! Your hair is dripping wet! Why didn’t you dry it?” Molly exclaims.
“Wha-? You called me!” he responds. “Hey Anna!”
“Hey,” I say. He comes over and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Okay, I’ll leave you two for a bit. Dinner’s almost ready, so make sure you have lots of room!” Molly bustles off to the kitchen, from where amazing scents are emanating.
“So… yeah,” Bill says, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“Why don’t you show me around?” I say, laughing lightly.
“Uh, yeah, good idea.” He seems even more nervous than I am. “So, this is the dining room,” he says, gesturing around.
He walks through a hallway and points to a door to the right. “There’s the kitchen, but we probably shouldn’t go in there. Mom’s kinda busy.”
Busy is one heck of an understatement. It amazes me that one person can be doing so much. She’s rushing back and forth, stirring pots and pans, putting things in and taking things out of the oven, plating dishes, everything.
Bill leads me to a room with a couple couches and a TV. “Here’s our living room. And, uh, this is my dad.”
His dad is sitting on one of the couches, watching a football game. He’s leaning so far forward I’m afraid he’s going to fall off.
“Dad?” Bill tries, but his dad is too engrossed in the game. He leans forward even further, then leaps out of his seat and screams, “YES! YES! WOOOOHOOO!”
“Dad!”
“Huh?” Bill’s dad turns around and seems surprised to see us standing there.
“Hi. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Anna?”
“Oh, yeah! Anna! I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad Billy got himself such a great girlfriend.”
I smile slightly. He’s probably just being nice, but it makes me feel good all the same. “Thanks, Mr. Charmin,” I say.
“Ah, you can just call me Leonard,” he says.
“Alright,” I say. I was about to ask about the football game he was watching when Bill tugs on my sleeve.
“Okay. Let’s go this way,” Bill says, and pulls me into another hallway.
“What’s the rush?” I ask, “I was talking to your dad.”
“I dunno…” he says, “I guess I’m just a little nervous for you to meet my family.”
“Shouldn’t I be the nervous one? Isn’t that how it usually works?” I joke.
“Yeah, but like… I don’t know. My family is just a little weird.”
I laugh. “Yeah, considering you guys are bears and all. It’s fine. It’ll be fine!” I reassure.
He takes a deep breath. “Right. Okay, here’s a bathroom, and the guest room. I guess you’ll spend the night here. Uh, that door goes to the garage, and this is another bathroom, and this is our little laundry closet thing.”
I nod, and he says, “Well, that’s downstairs. C’mon, I’ll show you my room.”
He jogs up the stairs and I follow. He points out a closed door and says, “this is my brother’s room. He’s probably playing video games or something, and he gets really annoyed when people bother him.”
He points to two more doors, saying, “that’s my brother’s bathroom, and here’s my sister’s bathroom.”
“There sure are a lot of bathrooms in your house,” I say.
“Yeah, uh, it’s like a thing,” is all he says.
“Okay…” I say. I don’t press any more, even though that answer was far from satisfactory.
We come to an open door, and he says, “This is Amy’s room.”
Amy is sitting at her desk and turns around when she hears us. “Oh. Hey!” she says.
I wave. “Hi! Nice to meet you!”
She gives a big smile. “Yeah! I’m glad to finally meet you! You’re even prettier in person!”
I blush. “Aww, that’s so nice of you to say! Whatcha working on there?”
Amy turns back to a mess of papers on her desk. “Right now I’m trying to make an origami crane, but it’s really hard.”
“Oh!” I say, “Maybe I can teach you!”
I reach down to grab a sheet of paper and quickly fold it into a respectable crane. I learned how to make these in elementary school and never forgot.
Amy looks up at me with wide eyes. “Wow! You’re so good!”
I laugh. “Here- let me show you.”
I help Amy fold her own crane. It’s a little lopsided, but for a first attempt it’s good.
“Hey, Bill, come make cranes with us!” I say. He rolls his eyes, but smiles and comes to join us anyway. We fold cranes for a little while until we hear Molly call us down.
“Yay! Dinner!” Amy exclaims, dropping her half-finished crane. She zooms out of the room in a flash. Bill and I follow.
We come down the stairs to see the dining room table all laid out with mountains of food. It all looks--and smells--amazing.
“Come, come!” Molly urges, “Everyone sit!”
Everyone slides into a seat, and I take the seat beside Bill.
“Leonard? Would you like to carve the turkey?” Molly proffers a long knife.
“Of course,” Leonard says, taking the knife. He expertly carves the turkey, juicy slices of meat dropping to the plate with every slice. He starts distributing the turkey, and slides two thick pieces of bird onto my plate. He begins to give me a third when I hold up my hand.
“Oh, no, thank you, but that’s too much for me,” I say, as politely as I can. I don’t want to seem rude by declining, but it would probably be even ruder to not finish.
Thankfully, he just says, “Oh, okay. Maybe later after you make some more room.”
I nod, even though I’m not entirely sure what he means.
“Want some mashed potatoes?” Billy says.
“Uh-”
He plops a spoonful of potatoes on my plate. “Thanks,” I say.
Soon, I have a heaping plate full of so much food. There’s turkey, potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green beans, brussels sprouts, and more.
“Oh, Anna!” Molly exclaims, “You need some more fiber!” She gives me some more brussels sprouts and green beans.
“Uh, thanks,” I say.
“Okay, everyone!” Molly says, “Dig in!!”
I start eating my food. It’s really, really good.
“Wow, this is really delicious, Mrs. Charmin!” I note.
“Oh, you’re so sweet, Anna.”
“So, Anna,” Leonard begins. I sit up a little bit straighter. I’m expecting a question somewhere along the lines of “what are you studying?” or “do you have a job?” or “what are you planning to do after school?” but instead I get, “What’s your favorite type of toilet paper?”
I almost choke on my food. I sit for a second, stunned. Everyone else looks at me expectantly, but I have absolutely no idea how to respond to that. “Sorry, what?” is all I can manage.
“I know, it’s a broad question. Like, I have a favorite toilet paper for travel, a favorite for pleasure, a favorite for efficiency, but overall, what’s your favorite toilet paper?”
“Well, at home, we use, uh…” I try desperately to remember what kind of toilet paper mom gets, but I’m so flustered I can barely form words, let alone what kind of toilet paper we have at home. Seriously, who asks that?
I stutter, but the name pops into my head, “Cottonelle.”
Leonard nods. Apparently he approves of Cottonelle toilet paper? “Cottonelle Ultra GentleCare or Cottonelle Ultra ComfortCare?” he asks next.
“I’m, uh, actually not sure. Usually my mom buys the toilet paper.” I’m sweating now. What kind of conversation is this?
“I see. Well, those are both respectable choices, unless, of course, you get the Cottonelle Ultra CleanCare!”
I can’t say I understand the joke, but it seems everyone else does. The table erupts into laughter. I give a weak laugh. Leonard wipes a tear from his eye. Apparently, that was such a funny joke it warranted crying from laughter. “And how’s the toilet paper at school? It probably sucks, right?”
I desperately look to Bill for help. I absolutely cannot answer more questions about toilet paper of all things. He seems to understand my stare.
“Dad,” he cuts in, “Stop asking Anna all these questions! You’re gonna make her nervous.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” he says. “Billy! You probably know what the toilet paper at school’s like, right? Have you ever had to use the school’s paper?”
“Yeah, I’ve had to use it a couple times. It was rough ,” he says.
Molly scrunches her face up. “Oh, yeah, I remember when I was in college. Even with a job, I couldn’t afford even the cheapest toilet for myself. I had to use the paper there. But, then when I started dating Leonard--” she gives her husband a loving look-- “I could use his paper.”
Leonard smiles. “Is that why you started dating me? You wanted to use my paper?”
“Well, it’s why I started dating you!”
I’m glad Molly and Leonard are sharing this sweet moment, but I have to say, what the actual fuck.
I see Dylan, Bill’s younger brother, roll his eyes. Apparently, Molly sees him too, because she says, “Aw, do you not like hearing about how we started dating?”
“No, ew!” Dylan declares. “I don’t want to hear about gross love things.”
I’m a little confused. Isn’t toilet paper objectively grosser than love?
“Alright, alright, we can talk about something else. What did you guys do today?”
Amy pipes up, “Today, Anna helped me learn how to fold origami birds!”
Finally, a normal topic of conversation.
“And, before that, I took the best shit! Momma, your pre-meal routine really worked.”
Well, that was certainly unexpected. I suppose that “shit” is a common word in this household, because no one seems fazed that this young girl just swore. Also, what on earth is a pre-meal routine?
“See!?” Molly exclaims, “I told you it worked! Now Amy and I will be able to eat a lot more than you all, because no one else followed my routine.”
“Okay, even if it does work, it’s too much work,” Bill says. Now I'm totally lost.
“You guys, I’m telling you, it’s totally worth it,” Molly insists, “You guys are just lazy.”
She reaches for more turkey. She’s finished her first plate already ?? I don’t feel like eating anymore. The weirdness of the situation has affected my appetite. I force myself to take another bite, though. I don’t want one of them to notice that I haven’t been eating much, then suggest that I go take a shit or something.
Unfortunately, that exact thing happens.
“Anna,” Molly says, “You’re not eating much!”
“Oh, it’s delicious, but I’m just not super hungry,” I say, taking another small bite.
“Why don’t you go and try to take a shit?” she proposes.
I’m about to say that I don’t need to, but then I realize going to the bathroom is a great way to get away from all this for a while.
I smile. “Sure,” I say, and excuse myself from the table.
“Take all the time you need,” Molly says sweetly, “And we’ve got plenty of toilet paper, but if you need some more, don’t hesitate to ask!”
I nod and push open the door. The bathroom is… luxurious. It’s pretty big, and the tile on the floor almost shines it’s so clean. The toilet sits against the wall, and next to it is a bookshelf. There is a literal mini library in the bathroom. Apparently they spend so much time in the bathroom that they need multiple books.
On the other side is a charging port and a desk . There is a desk in the bathroom. I quickly shut and lock the door behind me. Every time I think this can’t get weirder I am swiftly proven wrong. For instance, I thought that maybe this was as weird as the bathroom was going to get, but then the toilet spoke to me. Not as in, “I was suddenly drawn to the toilet,” no, it literally spoke to me.
“Hello,” a feminine robotic voice said, “Please select seat warmth level.”
The toilet seat opens by itself, and along the inside is a strip of LED lights that cycle through the colors of the rainbow. Now that just seems like a bad idea.
I don’t want to sit on the toilet. I wasn’t planning on sitting on it when I first walked in here, but now I’m actually scared of it. I bet that if I try to get up, it will literally hold me down and wipe my ass for me or something.
But apparently, my imagination just isn’t wild enough, because then the feminine voice says, “Please configure butt massage.”
How does that even work? How does a toilet massage your ass? I stand there while the room lights up like a dance floor. I can still make out the conversation from the other room.
“Molly,” Leonard is saying, “You’ve really outdone yourself this time. This is going to make a fantastic shit later on.”
“I know! And I’ve already stocked up all the bathrooms with extra toilet paper,” is Molly’s reply.
I don’t know how much longer I can stand it here. I’m beginning to entertain thoughts of sneaking out the window when someone knocks at the door.
“Uh, Anna?” comes Bill’s voice.
“Yes?” I reply hesitantly.
“My mom sent me to check on you. You doing okay?”
“Yes, yes, thank you,” I say, “Doing just fine.”
“Kay,” he says, then leaves.
Maybe I can manage to talk about toilet paper and toilets for the rest of the night, then sneak out when everyone is sleeping?
Another knock comes.
“Yes?” I say. How many times does someone need to check on me when I’m in the bathroom?
This time Molly is at the door. “Dear, is everything okay? I just checked the master system and the toilet hasn’t been used yet.”
“Oh, yeah.” I quickly try to come up with a lie. “I was just, uh… freshening… up?”
“Of course, of course. Sorry to bother you,” she says, “I was just worried the toilet wasn’t to your liking.”
“No, no!” I insist, “The toilet is lovely. I just haven’t used it yet.”
“Okay. If you need anything, just let me know!”
“Okay!” I say from inside the bathroom. I need to get out of here. I lift the lid and gingerly lower myself onto the seat, just to make it seem like the toilet is being used. Hopefully it doesn’t measure how much I shit or anything like that, but at this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised.
I tap “no heat” and “no massage” on the screen and just sit there, thinking. How can I politely escape this household? I’m supposed to be here for another week . The longer I sit, the more apparent it becomes. It’s impossible to escape politely. I must do the unthinkable. I must be rude.
I stand up, flush the empty toilet, and walk out into the hallway. I see Molly, and she begins to say something, but I turn and run out the door. I get in my car and drive away as fast as I can.
I never went back. I never spoke to Bill again. But, no matter how hard I try, every time I sit on a toilet, I think of him. Every time I wipe my ass, I think “at least it’s not Cottonelle Ultra CleanCare.” Every time I take a shit, I think of those damn bears. I escaped that place, but I will never be able to wipe it from my memory.
The End.