Thank you so much, dedicated readers of my bathroom reviews. (That doesn’t apply to you, Bingus Michaelson. I read your spam comments every week and they hurt me.) Without your support, I could never have gotten the opportunity to review the holy grail of bathrooms: the bathroom in Penn president Amy Gutmann’s house.
The first thing I noticed upon entering was that instead of a mirror above the sink, there was a large oil painting of Amy Gutmann. In the corner of the painting, I noticed an inscription: “Thank you, Amy, for years of friendship, and that illegal deal we have where you funnel students into my company. Your friend, Goldman.” I’m not sure what that message meant.
The shower curtain, I then noticed, was an even larger portrait of Gutmann, and the wall of of the shower was a tastefully painted mural of Gutmann’s smiling face. Astonished, I looked around at the rest of the ‘throom. The floor: Gutmann. The towels: Gutmann. The bathtub: a screenshot of Michael Caine in Batman Begins.
I forgot to mention that the wallpaper was made of hundred dollar bills, but you really should have predicted that.
Just as I began to sit down on the toilet that doubled as a sculpture of Amy Gutmann, two men in blue uniforms burst in the door. I told them it was rude to walk in on someone using the bathroom, and they replied that it was illegal to break into someone’s private residence. Before I could even use the 24 karat gold bidet, they had thrown me onto the sidewalk from the second story of the house.
As I sat on the pavement with a broken tibia and my hiney still hanging out of my trousers, I could not help but feel a certain happiness -- finally, I had entered the Mecca of bathrooms, and at last I would be able to review a truly important water closet.
But I was mostly happy because I had managed to grab a couple Benjamins from the wallpaper before getting ejected.