State Congress To Spend Millions On Ass Covers

“We all know the infrastructure of this country is falling apart but nobody knows where to start fixing it!” barks Congressman Billy Jack Jurkis. “Well, I believe in leading by example. My bill proposes to modernize public restroom conditions throughout this great state of ours. Right now, we got a medieval goddam mess out there. I’d rather crap in my own hat than sit on a Denny’s ass-gasket.” The Houston-born politician has championed the excremental cause for the better part of a decade before seeing it reach its current level of support. The changes proposed would affect millions of defecators across the state of Texas. Restrooms in gas stations, restaurants, truck-stops and workplaces have all fallen within the crosshairs of his mighty movement.

The Jurkis Bill as it’s known is a multi-pronged approach to revamping the state’s public toilets and changing the way citizens move their bowels outside their homes. Research and development plays a major part in the public-porcelain proposal. High up on the Jurkis hit list are disposable toilet seat covers. The bill describes the current paper variety as “highly inefficient, downright dangerous and goddammed disgusting.” Jurkis’ street team has helped induce a groundswell of discontent over Kimberly Clark’s staple product. An anonymous Circle K shopper sounded off on the effectiveness of the veil-thin potty rings, “What the hell is that thing made of, anyway? That’s the same crap my wife uses to stuff gift bags with! My kid traces comics through that same shit. Paper don’t stop no damned syphilis! Hell, I could go outside and rig me up a wreath from twigs and leaves, sit on the damned thing and feel more safer-er!”

An organized group of Texans known as Ringers have rallied behind Jurkis in support of the paper protector’s abolition. The decades-old group opposes the disposable bacteria borders on the grounds that they fail to keep buttocks free of disease and rim streaks. Ringers can be spotted daily in downtown Dallas with a full-blown personal toilet seat either under their arm or slung across their back with a length of rope or chain. Ringer veteran, William Terdzik insists “You gotta carry your own seat. It’s the only way to protect yourself from all the skanky glutes parkin’ their funk everywhere they go. Until a proper seat cover is invented, you might as well be sharing your underwear with a thousand of your closest neighbors.” The concept has been a natural evolution since the early nineties when the movement’s earliest pioneers would line the toilet seats of Texaco gas stations with their flannel shirts to avert germs. Needless to say, the results weren’t always as hygienic as intended and led to a fair share of flushed plaid.

Jurkis also cites engineering flaws in the paper covers as an impetus to the proposed bill. As a frequent restroom user, the congressman has tried and failed repeatedly to use the Kimberly Clark disposable ring. As with many others, he finds that the paper cover far too often falls into the watery abyss before he can even sit down, “It’s goddamed capillary action, that’s what it is. The flap hangs in the dang water, soaks it up and pulls the whole thing in before you can even mount the damned porcelain. It’s godammed ridiculous. I’ve damn near pulled a cheek muscle trying to pop a squat before the paper slips away.” As part of the proposed law, teams of scientists and researchers would be commissioned to rigorously test the “automatic disposal system” currently incorporated by Kimberly Clark disposable covers. New engineering-grade materials would be developed to provide a non-slip grip to the toilet seat and to effectively protect everyone’s  posterior from one another.

Seat covers aren’t the only thing bothering Billy Jack Jurkis about public restrooms. According to the congressman, stall doors swinging inward make exiting very difficult for overweight individuals like himself. “Hell, I can barely get out of that damned death trap pulling the door towards me. Even as I’m scootin’ backwards, there ain’t no room! Last month, my wife fell back into the toilet at the Hess station as she was trying to get out. Helluva mess that was. Had to throw away her clothes afterwards.” According to OSHA, the doors swing inward as to not strike other restroom users that might be close to the stall’s exterior. Jurkis argues that nobody should be standing that close to somebody else moving their bowels even if there is a door between them. “Ain’t nobody need to be sniffing around the door jamb while I’m passin’ a T-Bone, I can tell you that much. What we need is two-way hinge like in the old saloons. I should be able to fling a door open when I want out, goddamit. That’ll be next. First thing’s first and that’s getting anti-septic toilet seat covers that can stop a .22 from ten feet away. Now that will be something I can sit on and feel good about, goddamit.”

Travelogue 2018

7:55 PM
I sit back and await takeoff. The seat is cramped but it is undeniably mine. My ticket says so. I know this, without question. Unlike the woman next to me, I required no assistance in finding my assigned place. I kick my bag beneath the seat, clutch my book and try to relax. The masses file in, many of them brushing heavily against me with their carry-on luggage and steamer trunks. My head is clipped by a large cumbersome object which I can’t identify.

8:01 PM
The man several rows ahead appears confused. He has blocked the aisle, stopping the flow of traffic. Ever so slowly he turns clockwise in place to view every angle of the passenger area. The rotation reverses as he scans the plane from the other direction. Time has stopped. He is looking for something. But what? The number on his ticket should correlate to the numbered tags posted above each row. He does not understand.

8:13 PM
Breathing anxiously, I gag slightly at a horrid realization. The old woman next to me is emitting an unsavory odor. A sour milk and urine mix has been personified in Seat 19B. I shield my face with my open book and discreetly enjoy the smell of its musty yellowed pages.

8:17 PM
Yet another man has stopped in the aisle, albeit only briefly. He has quickly stowed his luggage in the overhead compartment and courteously sat down. Less than a minute later, however, he has decided that he doesn’t need to wear his coat on the plane. He is on his feet again, inducing gridlock as he stashes his outerwear up above. Inadvertently, a woman in the aisle gets smacked in the face with a swinging parka sleeve. The man is unaware.

8:24 PM
My attention turns back to the first confused man. He was ultimately seated by an attendant who responded to his distress call, allowing other passengers to once again pass by. He looks comfortable and relaxed, now. His wife is whispering in his ear. She needs something. The man looks up towards the storage compartment. The object of her longing appears to be in their suitcase. He stands up obstructing the narrow aisle. The line of people backs up so far that the attendants cannot close the airplane door. The man stands on his toes as he rummages through the luggage in the overhead storage compartment. He is looking for something of vital importance. Minutes later, a bottle of water is drawn from the bag. He sits down.

8:31 PM
The passengers have stopped stirring and appear settled. At last, the pilot has announced our imminent departure. Time to buckle up. Upon hearing this, the woman with the water bottle stands up. She looks first towards the front of the plane, and then the back. Excusing herself, she steps into the aisle and looks around yet again. She has chosen the restroom towards the rear of the plane. A fine choice, I am sure. Eleven minutes later, she walks slowly back to her seat. She appears ill. Her soiled bottom leaves vapor trails by the nose of each seated person she passes. I cringe and bury my face further into my book.

8:35 PM
I close my eyes and ponder the feasibility of international bus travel.