So I spent the last week living on a 100-foot dive boat. Sounds awesome, right?
Well, it was pretty awesome.
But before you get any visions of me partying on a yacht with Diddy…let me tell you about the cabin accommodations.
It involved a shoilet.
Or, as us fancy folk say, a shoilette.
What exactly is a shoilet?
Shower + toilet = shoilet. In the correct pronunciation, the word shoilet rhymes with toilet.
Imagine a small space, with a stall-type shower, where the shower curtain hangs not to keep the water from splashing onto the floor, but to keep the water from splashing onto the toilet. The entire set up is maybe…two feet by four feet, and that is being generous.
Oh, and when you turn around the hit the button to flush, be careful you don’t hit the shower faucet on the wall, else you will have accidentally activated your shoilet and will now be in danger of getting soaked, as there is no way to exit the shoilet without walking directly through the water stream.
One of my favorite parts? When installed correctly, the shoilet has two water temperatures when you use the “sho” part. Frostbite, or third-degree burn.
And doing any type of activity like, shaving your legs, is near-impossible in the shoilet, because there is barely room to turn around, not to mention if you move you are in danger of touching the shoilet door, which opens when you do as little as breathe on it. This causes the door to swing open, potentially spilling you, water, and your unshaved legs out onto the floor.
It should be noted that “shoilet” can be used as both a noun and a verb, making the word even more perfect. As in, “I’m going to jump in the shoilet before dinner” or “I need to shoilet before we leave.”
Yup, pretty AWESOME.
Oh, and don’t plan on using the word shoilet in everyday conversation, because I plan to trademark the hell out of it.