Good morning! It’s hump day!
Like you, we are really regretting that extra beer we had with fireworks last night. And since you’re avoiding getting back to work, here’s a Card Story to liven up your morning.
Have you ever wondered if your iPhone would survive being launched into a steaming pile of fecal matter?? Me neither.
Until one day..
In the middle of East Africa and desperate for a pee, I squatted in the ever-awkward position over the 3-metre-deep pit latrine. Determined, focused and with the agile dexterity of the impala – I attempt not to let my precious toes make contact with the ground or, worse still, fall victim of the ‘spray effect’.
Upon hearing a squelchy thud, humour momentarily crossed my mind as to what had fallen into the vat of excrement below. Until I realised my iPhone, which had been conveniently lodged in the back pocket of my jeans, had been released from its position by the famous ‘gusset pull’.
What to do? Keep it quiet. I’m not going to live down the endless japing from the 5 friends circulating the nearby craft stall. Or… go for full disclosure and announce to the world “something really bad has happened”. An embarrassing cringe-worthy statement from a humanitarian worker who really should know better.
It turns out that as an accomplished professional in my (let’s-say) mid-thirties, I am one of the millions that inexplicably cannot do life without the demon Apple attached to my hand. Which means there is one thing for which I am prepared to wade around in a reservoir of bodily fluids (well, at least pay someone else to).
The unprecedented joyful response which ensued made me wonder why I had never done this before, and brought so much delight to so many. Exclaims of “this is the best weekend ever” and photos/videos/immediate social media posts of the event made me feel like a minor celebrity. How could I feel anything but pure happiness that my iPhone would forever be a carrier of Cholera.
The engineering skill of five men; cutting down trees, banana leaf binding with bottles and hoes, the removal of the latrine roof (yes, really) allowing the retrieval device to be vertically elevated, and the hour long commitment to the cause, meant that I was once again reunited with my precious piece of technology.
The good people of Apple will be enchanted to know that not only does it work perfectly, but it has earned me the catchy and, quite frankly, endearing nickname ‘Typhoid-Mary’.
It remains only the pity that despite extreme Dettol/waragi cleansing and cling-film cover, my little ‘bare-necessity’ can no longer be my pillow-side companion.
Like this story? Read more!
We here at JadedAid love our card stories; real life misadventures of the incidents depicted on our playing cards. Here are a few good ones:
- Getting Your Vibrator Confiscated at the Airport
- A gift of live chickens and a stalk of plantains
- Bicycle-powered water pumps pedaled by malnourished 8-year-olds
Have your own? Do share your card story with us.