on the toilet.

He drags his feet up 2 flight of stairs only to be shoved through small door with wet floors and a smell that would stink you well after you've left the room. He's rushed into a cubicle and like and old routine drilled into his thick skull, he obediently pulls his pants down despite the fact he doesn't have the urge to pee. there he would sit and wait as time passes by until someone knocks on his cubicle door and forces him to hurry. He can't care less if the hours went by and all he had to do was sit on the smelly throne for a good long part of his day for it really wouldn't matter to him. He knew that no matter how long he was in there, someone would come for him eventually and he did not have to barge until that someone did. He knew no matter what, someone was going to miss him and someone was going to come look for him.

all he had to do was wait.