Good crew at the Grounds for Divorce today.  Lively conversation.  Most of it was centered around cars, as usual.  But then things took a turn and it got a little weird.  Not the first time it’s happened.  I’m sure it won’t be the last.  As I think back on it, I’m trying to remember just where it went off the rails.

I mean we were all sitting around the big table in the middle of the coffee shop. Rusty was talking about the Mud Hens dropping another one in the 9th inning because we can’t even spell pitching, much less offer any. “It’s not even July and we’re so far back we don’t stand a chance of making the playoffs,” he said. Nothing new. The Mud Hens haven’t had a winning season in years, much less made the playoffs. Might be how we can all afford season tickets. Most folks only go for Dollar Hot Dog Night, or Halter Top Night when women wearing said garments get in free. I don’t think Lucinda’s missed one of those since you could still get a vinyl top on a new car.

At some point Rex Hall, from over at Rex Hall Drug, slid his iPad across the red and white checkered laminated tablecloth.  Right there on the screen was this 1951 Mercedes-Benz 220 Sedan.  It kinda stopped the conversation while we all took turns oooing and awwwing.  I mean it’s not like you see one of these things everyday, or even once in a blue moon on Bring a Trailer.  “Got to be impressed with this one,” I threw out to no one in particular.

“That 2.0 liter M180 SOHC inline-six was shoe-horned in there tighter than a duck’s butt.  Don’t know how you’d ever work on that thing,” Rusty noted.  

Even Pastor Peterson, who has a preference for classic German cars, on account of Germany being the birthplace of the Reformation, said he didn’t recall seeing one of these before. “Interesting to see something more off the beaten path with a Three-Pointed Star adorning the radiator,” he said. “Not everything needs to be a gull wing.” Gullwing, my Norwegian Wolfhound waiting patiently in the back of the Edsel Bermuda out front, sat up and howled, not realizing the mix-up. I swear that dog can hear a flea fart in the woods at one hundred paces.

“The world was a better place when cars used ‘trafficators’ and real wood trim,” the Pastor said.  We all nodded in agreement, a couple of us wondering what ‘trafficators’ were, but not wanting to look uneducated in such things.

And this may have been where things took a turn.  New Guy, who’d been quiet up to that point, commented on the superior engineering capabilities of the Germans, as evidenced by the maroon Mercedes.  “It’s completely unimaginable to me,” he said, “how those very same people can be so absolutely clueless as to how to design a toilet.”

Just like with the ‘trafficator’, I didn’t want to look like I was completely in the dark as to what he was talking about.  Luckily, Rusty had no such inhibitions.

“What the hell do you mean?” he asked.

“German toilets are made with ‘inspection shelves’,” New Guy explained.  I remained baffled.

“Inspection what?” Rusty said.

“Inspection shelves,” New Guy said.  “When one drops a deuce, it does not go into the water, as you are used to here in the states.  It lands on a porcelain shelf, where it can be viewed, if needed, before being disposed of.”

The next question out of Rusty’s mouth was not worthy of being included in its entirety in the story, but suffice it to say that Lucinda slapped him upside the back of his head before he could finish it. There was a fair level of disbelief all around the table, but New Guy seemed to know exactly what he was talking about.

“The need arose back at the beginning of the 20th century.  Many different diseases and sickness required having a good look at one’s stool in order to see what might be going on.  Therefore, the toilet was designed to be able to accommodate that process.  After World War II, even though the need was no longer there to do much inspection, the Germans were used to the design and saw no need to change it,” New Guy explained.

“Damnedest thing I ever heard of,” Rusty said.  “No wonder they lost both World Wars.  Ain’t nobody needs to be taking a long gander at what just dropped out of ‘em.  Ain’t healthy.”

“I don’t disagree at all,” New Guy said.  “And there are unintended consequences that go along with such things.  My wife and I spent time in Germany.  I can tell you from experience.”

Of course, none of us even knew New Guy was married, much less that he’d spent time overseas.  Nor that he had first hand experience with the commode customs of foreign countries.  But there was no turning back at that point.

“The missus and I had a flat on the sixth floor of an ancient hotel in downtown Wittenberg, the Martin Luther Suite,” New Guy stated.  Pastor Peterson couldn’t hide the smile on his face.  It didn’t stay there long.  “The water pressure was deplorable that high up.  Unfortunately the red cabbage and schnitzel from lunch went through me faster than the train ride from Berlin and I almost didn’t make it upstairs in time. Let’s just say I had a jumper at the door.”

Lucinda snickered at the paratrooper reference.  “We’ve all been there.”

“I barely made it to the throne and busted a monster grumpy.  Felt like I lost a pant size.  I look down and it’s looking back at me, like a brown anaconda,” New Guy goes on.  Rusty stops pushing the leftover sausage link around his plate and puts his fork down.  His gag reflexes have never been as strong as his outspokenness..

“I hit the lever for the tank to expel the unholy load off the inspection shelf and into the drain to be carried away.  Lack of water pressure barely budged the big butt baby.  I flushed six or seven more times, all to no avail.  That deposit was not going into the bank,” New Guy continued.  Rusty was looking a little green around the gills.

“Finally, I knew I needed to release the payload before the wife came up to the room or fear her turning the same shade that Rusty is. I grabbed handfuls of toilet paper and had to manually manhandle the massive manure missile off the shelf where it had perched, and push it down into the reservoir below. It took three more wads of toilet paper and sheer brute force to scrape the dookie butter off the shelf and then open the windows to air the whole place out,” New Guy said. About then, Rusty got up and ran back to the Men’s Room. The sounds that followed were like something from the Dallas Zoo when the lowland gorilla escaped his enclosure and tried to have his way with an anteater.

“That’s not the only unintended consequence of the poor design of the German john,” New Guy went on. Pastor Peterson glanced at his watch and suddenly remembered he had a counseling appointment with Chad and Prudence he was late for.  Lucinda took his chair.

“Men sit down to pee in Deutschland,” New Guy explained.  “They have to because of the inspection shelf.  The stream would splash everywhere the minute it hit the shelf, so they all sit to pee. There is even a name for it. ‘Sitzpinkel’.”

Lucinda nodded her head up and down as though one of the mysteries of the universe had somehow been explained. “I shouldn’t have been so hard on Franz and Gruber,” she muttered. “I had no idea it was a cultural thing.”

About then, Rusty made his way back to the table and took the seat Pastor Peterson had been in.  He still didn’t look well.  “What I miss?”

“I owe Franz and Gruber an apology,” Lucinda said. “It’s normal for German men to sit when they pee.”

“No wonder their cars are so damn nice.  They’re trying to make up for everything that happens in the throne room being against what God and nature intended,” Rusty said.  He picked the iPad up and had another look at the red Benz 220 sedan.  “How could anything this perfect come from a country that never figured out how to drop the kids off at the pool, or know that you have to stand up when you’re shaking hands with the mayor?”

It was late.  I’d promised Gullwing a walk around the Paisano Pete statue and the train station to let him sniff a little history and maybe get a glimpse of that German Shepherd he’s taken a fancy to.  As I left, Cornfield Dave was walking in.  I heard New Guy ask him what all he knew about German engineering.  My timing couldn’t have been better.