shitter protocol (a flashback)

…everyone feel better?

why is shane lighting a match?

seriously – i did a bit just a bit ago where i tried to make myself out to be in the first person while i was actually in the third. make sense?

let’s try again…

a few weeks ago i hit the restroom at work. about twenty seconds into the process, while standing at the urinal, i get the burning sensation in the side of my head that one gets when someone is just staring at you, unwavering, for seemingly no reason. when i looked up i saw a buddy of mine, shit-eating grin on his face, staring at me. he just said, “hi”. and then DIDN’T look away. just sat there staring, all the while handling his own business a mere urinal partition away.

it felt creepy.

it’s not like he was checking me out, or looking at my crank, or anything like that. and if you know him, it’s funny. and it kinda was funny. if it had happened at the vending machine it wouldn’t have been creepy OR funny. but put it in the can, and all of a sudden it’s creepy AND funny.

as the real estate folks say – location, location, location.

the other day when ME was on her way to reno (literally – not an R.E.M. song reference) she was on the phone with me (who’s shocked?) when she got to a convenience store. we got off the phone so she could run into the little girls room and five minutes later called me back laughing her fool head off. the reason was she had walked in the store while still on the phone with me, so she was carrying her crackberry. she went in the bathroom, set it on the sink, handled business, and walked out to get some road trip snackage. upon paying she realized she had left the crackberry in the loo, so without a word she went and retrieved it. when she came back through the clerk was looking at ME like she was a crazy person.

why?

1. because ME is a crazy person…but i love her, so that’s okay.

2. because all the clerk saw was this cute little blonde walk in the store, go to the bathroom, come out and buy some hoppin’ hot habanero doritos and a coke, and then take said snackage back IN to the rest room, which is not typically done.

kinda reminded me of the seinfeld episode where george has to buy an $80 photo art book because he takes it into the barnes & noble bathroom to browse while answering nature’s call.

except ME actually paid for her stuff before hauling it in. and she was only back in for a second. and she’s a lot cuter, of course.

it’s just odd to me how the bathroom has it’s own unique set of social rules and such. take, for example, what happened to me the other day (which ironically parallel’s ME’s story, minus the desert locale and the hoppin’ hot habanero doritos). i went to the rest room and took my phone with me as it has games built on it and that helps pass the time. recently they re-did the toilet paper set up in my office to where it’s this auto-loading two roll thing that mounts on the wall. the problem is the ORIGINAL metal one was two sided and mounted THROUGH the stall wall, where it would be, say, to your right (while seated) in stall number one while the other side of the same dispenser was on the left of you in stall number two (two seperate rolls, no “pass through” capability, for anyone grossed out thinking such things). the brief versions – there are now two paper dispensers in each stall, but one is just for show and is unloaded, as it were.

which makes for the natural place for you to set your phone down when you get up to finish, which is what i did. i then walked out and went to the bank, which is just down the hall in my building. when i got there i realized i had left my phone behind and went back.

this is where it got tricky.

see, when i was in there i was the only one and was in stall three of four. now stalls two, three, AND the luxury box (i.e. the larger handicapped stall) were all occupado – with my phone trapped in three with god knows who doing god knows what.

okay, i think we all KNOW what…and…um…ick.

what do you do? waiting was CLEARLY not an option – it became quickly apparent that someone had made a poor lunch choice and was now paying the price, so i needed to evacuate before the haz-mat crew came in.

so, i did what you would do if it was NOT the bathroom but rather, say, the changing room at a nice store (sometimes it helps to mentally remove yourself from the can in order to apply the NORMAL social rules and regs rather than the version br.0) and knocked on the stall door and said, “hey, buddy…”

a weak, shaky, frightened, “there’s someone in here…” eaked out from inside.

“i know…”, i replied, “that’s why i said ‘hey buddy’ when i knocked…”

before i could complete my thought “what the fuck?”, came from stall two on the right and a “dude, not cool” came from the luxury box on the left.

great – now EVERYBODY wants to participate.

and then before retort a beat kicked in…

“i represent, set up shit like a tent boy…you’re paranoid ’cause you’re a son like elroy…”

mass appeal from gang starr – my standard ring.

i crouched and stuck my hand just under the stall door. this, apparently, was a mistake without a verbal introduction to doing so…

‘WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!? came from stall three right in front of me. “DUDE…UN-FUCKING COOL!!!”

“”shut up”, i replied, clearly the only calm, rational one in the room (which is a scary statement to make about myself regardless of the situation) “and hand me my damn phone”.

“OOOHHH…” came the sound of reality kicking in from the other side of the door, and i felt my phone hit my palm.

i then went and washed my hands twice, followed with anti-bacterial gel, and then wiped down my phone with lysol…twice as well.

i know where it’s been – and i know how stupid the person who handed it to me was. you never know when that kind of thing is contagious.