Don't Flush Your Gator That Day

Story Sent in by Tom:

At dinner together, Dana asked me, "Have you ever been inside a sewer?"

I confessed, "I almost fell down one, once, trying to get a baseball back."

"Sewers are entire networks under the city that no one ever sees. You should check it out sometime."

"Do you ever go into the sewers?"

She nodded. "Like all the time. My ex showed them to me and now I'm down there a lot. They're cleaner than you think."

"I'll take your word for it."

"I'll show you after dinner," she said, "But don't try anything, otherwise..." and she picked up and tapped a whistle on her keyring. This girl was talking about visiting the sewers, and I came across as a suspicious one?

After dinner she led me to a sewer entrance and she climbed down a flimsy metal ladder. As she descended, she must've lost her footing and she fell.

"Ow!" she yelled from the darkness below, "I'm all right. Just fell on my ass."

"Do you need help?" I called down. No response. I called for her a few more times and didn't hear a thing back. I didn't have a flashlight with me, else I would've shined it down to find her. I thought about leaving, about calling the cops, but I just sat there and waited for about 30 minutes. She came out smelling positively awful, but wore a big smile.

"You missed out, man," she said, "Some prime adventuring down there."

She smelled like poop and damp clothes. She must've smelled it herself, because the next thing she did was give me a great big hug and said, "Shower time! Wanna walk me to my car?"

I did, and she hugged me again and drove off. No more dates with the señorita of the sewers.