People:

All my life, no matter where I’ve lived,  I’ve assumed there were two kinds of people in the world:

1. People who leave their old toilets in the front yard, and
2. People who do not.

All my life, I’ve believed I was number 2. But people, that has changed. There’s a toilet in my front yard… and IT’S NOT MINE!

That makes 3 kinds of people, people! And that will not do!

How, how did we come to this lowly state?

Toilet Karma, that’s how.

Let me just back-up a bit — to last week, when I took a walk. Our neighborhood is a mixed one, which here (on the Aegean coast) means “rich folks’ dead-eyed summer villas interspersed with villagers’ honest, lively, chicken-friendly houses.” Sort of a squalid-splendor-meets-splendid-squalor sort of thing.

On my 27-minute walk, I saw 1 cemetery,  8 dogs, 15 cats, about 100 chickens (I lost count), 4 cows, and 3 yard toilets.

3! And not 1 of them had been made into a planter.

Naturally, when the Great Fisherman Boo came home from fishing, I gave him the bad news, never knowing that…

Wait. I’m plunging ahead too fast. Telling, not showing. I forgot the dialog:

Lindy Moone: “I saw three toilets today.”

The Great Fisherman Boo: “What?”

Lindy: “Three! Toilets! In people’s yards!”

The Great Boo: “What do you want me to do about it?”

Lin: “Well, can’t you..? No, no, I suppose you can’t do anything. You can’t even say anything. I just wish they’d at least throw them in the Dumpster.” (Here is where I tell you that we don’t have individual, weekly trash pick-up like most places in the States. We have shared Dumpsters, like the ones apartment complexes have. There’s one in front of our house, emptied daily.)

Boo: “The Dumpster. Yeah.”

L: “Yeah.”

B: “I’m gonna take a shower. You need to pee first?”

Fast forward 2 days, to when I spy the toilet. In our front yard. Next to the (emptied) Dumpster.

Lindy: “Did you say anything to anyone about the toilets?”

Boo: “What do you think? No.”

Lin: “Did you see the toilet? By the Dumpster?”

B: “Yeah.”

L: “The trash guys didn’t take it.”

B: “Nope.”

L: “I guess it would mess up the truck, huh?”

B: “Yup.”

L. “F&*:(!”

B: “I’m gonna take a shower. You need to pee first?”

People: the toilet is still there. That makes 4 toilets on our street, and there is only 1 conclusion to reach:

There are 3 kinds of people in the world:

1. People who leave their old toilets in the front yard,
2. People who do not, and
3. People who need people to remove someone else’s toilet from their front yard.

And I am no longer number 2. I am number 3.