Jaysen will find me. He said I had to remember who I was until he came back. I-I-I am Chad! In the darkness, Chad repeated his mantra.
At last the lights came on, some Latino wanna-be-thug entered the stall with his gold chains clanging together. He pulled out a black marker. Chad could smell the alcohol reeking from him, as he started to right down his number. Chad focused, and the Latino zoned out. His hand dropped to the side of the toilet, and he wrote "C" "H" "A" "D". He blinked finished writing his own phone and tagged it with his name with L at the end of Fidel shaped like a penis. Chad guessed it wasn't his real name. The letters on his side helped him remember that he was the quarterback Chad.
Every graffiti artist who came to decorate Chad's stall added his version of Chad's name to the toilet. Soon the gay bar patrons were referring to the toilet in stall one as Chad, and people would line up to graffiti the toilet. Chad no longer had to concentrate. He knew who he was. The name Chad echoed in his mind. Someone added, Queer to the toilet. Another added "Gay Pride". Chad wondered about his sexuality. He wondered if he was right to have made it so he could remember. A mindless toilet might be preferable to a straight guy serving as a toilet at a gay night club. The walls of his stall were now plastered with the name Chad. His name had become local slang for guys who were into toilet/water sports.
"Yeah, I'm a Chad, shall I prove it in the Chad room?"
Chad's stall became the Chad room. "A Chad" would squat on him, and drink pee from the waiting line of bar patrons. At first Chad thought it was cool, and then he realized he was no longer drinking second hand beer, he was drinking second hand piss. After a few months, Chad gave up hope.
Then one day, he heard a familiar voice outside his stall.
"Seriously, man, they call this toilet Chad? I knew a Chad once..."
"So are you going in or what?" asked another male voice.