Traumatic Hygeine

Yes, we are time-travelers now. Ahead of you mortals by 13 hours. Unless you live somewhere that isn't America. (hyuk, but a-why would ya, y'queer? yeeeehaaaw.)

Strange things we found out about our room this day (Saturday, the 17th):

-Internet is free free free
-We have a flashlight under our desk
-There is no hotel safe. Damnit.
-There's an emergency latch on the window... maybe in case of emergency evacuation during a Godzilla attack
-Japanese TV is, indeed, fucking weird.
-We don't have drawers for clothing, we must live out of our suitcases
-You have to put your cardkey into a little slot thing to activate the room's lights
-The door to the bathroom opens the opposite direction of all American hotels ever
-The tub is illogically deep
-Shampoo, conditioner and soap are provided in GIANT dispenser bottles in the shower instead of those fucking little bottles in America that we all hate.
-The mirror is heated from behind by the shower water, so the section in which one would see oneself is not fogged when one is done showering.
-The toilet is a butt-squirting robot from the future.

That STOP button was my best friend, let me tell you.

For those of you unfamiliar with bidets (bless your American cowboy hearts,) it's a toilet that shoots water at your butthole or your cooter, depending on how feminine-pink the button is colored. I hit the shower (meaning BUTT) button for the lulz, and I think it scarred me.

The worst part, you see, is the anticipation of the thing. It takes a couple seconds to warm up the butt-squirter emitters... just long enough for you to wonder "did I not press the button hard enough?" before it shoots you up the ass with traumatic amounts of hygiene. It made me do the standard Japanese girl-scream of "KYAAAA" before realizing there was a STOP button for a reason.

I don't want to know how strong the stream can get. Don't touch that dial.



UPDATE:
This is Michael, right after having used the bidet.


He's a different man now.