When I was a teenager, my mom and her boyfriend were going through a bit of a rough patch. I was sort of a snoopy kid, so I knew what was up: he had a drug problem and had been talking to an ex of his recently, among other things. A few days later we went away for the weekend and he had the place to himself. I came home and, right away, found a half-ripped condom wrapper in the toilet, an attempted flush that failed, obviously. In the main bathroom! Like, he must have just tried to flush it. Way to cover your tracks, dude. I mean, isn't that the first thing every teenager learns: don't flush condoms because they don't flush? Gross - and, really? I got my mom's back, not yours - so I pulled it out and centered it right on top of the (visible) garbage. Since we just came in from a long drive back home, mom was also in line for the bathroom. She went in, I knew she saw it, and shortly after dude was out. I feel bad that she had to see that to see what a douche he was, but I'm pretty happy at having facilitated it.