EPTI'd just like to say that one of my few true regrets in life is not signing up for FBLA sooner. Freshman year I had plans to join the military and do JROTC in highschool/ROTC in college, but I fell out two years later and dropped it at the end of the 11th grade. The military wasn't for me, and I wanted to grow out my hair.
This year I've been doing FBLA; it's a really practical organization that goes a long way to answering the age-old question you hear bored algebra students asking - "When are we going to learn something that matters?" You basically learn a wide variety of business-related subjects, anything from public speaking; to a hands-on, step-by-step guide to dressing for an interview; to selling a product.
The real main attraction was the state and national conferences, where you spend 2 and 3 days, respectively, in a hotel room and do presentations on a subject you like, and spend the rest of your time doing fuck-all. It seemed like a whole lot of fun based on the testimonies of my friends in the organization, and now that I've been through States (and qualified for nationals! Anyone else already in or going to Nashville this July?) I have to say it met and exceeded the huge amount of hype they built up for it.
But States is another matter - one that would take me more than the 100,000 character limit of a Team Liquid post to describe in its full excitement and horrors. So.... back to the shitting.
Our story begins on Day One of States - last night. Now it isn't a public bathroom, but we still have about 10 people in our room either playing or watching poker. I'm in the toilet taking a shit, which goes normally in all ways up until I attempt to pull the flush.
Now I have a problem with clogging toilets. Public toilets for some reason are very low to the ground and have small exits, which are an inconvenience for my man shits. I eat a lot, and I shit a lot as a result.
So this toilet is firmly clogged. Nothing goes down the drain, nothing goes up. Except the water - that's going to creep up. Usually the blockage isn't 100% blocking the cross-section, and after a flush the water drains out through the gaps. So my usual strategy to deal with this when a plunger isn't available is to wait 5-10 minutes for the water to reset and try again.
Except the hotel toilet doesn't stop very quickly. The water keeps rising, slowly but surely, and I stand frozen in fear as the water eclipses the lip of the toilet bowl, and begins to drain out. I breathe a sigh of relief as the water recedes a little bit on the right, hoping it'll go down, but then realize that's only because it's all waterfalling out the left side.
The shit is still stuck in the drain. The water is pretty clean.
So my first plan is to wait out the flood and then deal with it, thinking it'll stop soon enough. But as the water covers more and more surface area and approaches my dress shoes, I do then only thing I can think of. I open the top off (thank god it's not one of those toilets where the tank is behind the wall), and quickly inspect the flushing mechanism. Looking for a solution, I shove my hand into the icy toilet tank water, jam the round piece the flushing chain is connected to, and seal a pipe of some sort by doing so. A few seconds later, the water finally slows and then stops flowing out. Success!
Of some sort, anyway. Half of the bathroom floor is covered in water, and it's a centimeter deep at its lowest point in the back left corner. The toilet is full to the brim, and only surface tension prevents a second waterfall from occurring.
How do I clean this up without alerting the other 10 occupants? With a towel, of course!
Our room sleeps 4, but I brought a towel of my own from home which meant we only needed 3 for showering. I grab the spare hotel towel (fuck no, not using my own, even if I deserve it) and soak it in the water. Icy water with a small hint of Type 3 shit instantly fills the whole towel, and the water recedes maybe two inches, with 4 feet to go. It's a start. Gives me some more space to stand.
Having no other practical way of getting rid of the water (there is no way I'm admitting to room service that I single-handedly flooded half a bathroom), I decide to do the only thing I can, which is to wring the towel into the bathtub and repeat. So I spend a good half-hour wringing out the water ounce by ounce. Slowly, the blockage collapses in the water, and the toilet starts returning to its normal, albeit still clogged state. The water levels return to normal, that is.
Finally I manage, using a second towel in conjuction with the first to wall off the water in the 1cm-corner and then wring my way to salvation, to return the toilet to its normal state. The only thing left is the occasional strip of water which couldn't be wiped up with a wet towel.
I wash the floor and my hands, and repeat the flush, carefully watching the tank mechanism to be ready to close the pipe at a moment's notice. When I look back I realize that the toilet is back to normal, and my shit is finally finding its way to the ocean.
Hopefully the toilets are bigger in Nashville.
. 
