Monday, September 24, 2012

A man walked into a bathroom...

Firstly, I find that the best way to perform “Damage Mitigation”, or at least to save a little face, is if I am the one who points out my underlying weirdness before everyone else figures it out for themselves.  

So, here goes: for some reason, my brain has noticed that bathrooms are like the bermuda triangle... of awkwardness.  I’m pretty sure the bathroom door is like one of those portals, but instead of Narnia being on the other side, you have just entered a dimension which will have no problems slapping your scruples in its smug little face.

Today, I walked into the bathroom/awkward-twilight-zone, and did my thing.  Upon leaving the stall, and removing my gas mask, I walked over to the sink to wash my hands for the recommended 15 seconds. which is an awkwardly long time to wash your hands for... especially in a bathroom.  It is at this point, when another poor soul walked into the awkward-zone.... and made a b-line straight for the recently vacant stall.

I understand his reasoning for choosing the handicapped stall which i just walked out of... who wouldn't want the large stall, with its plush leg room (so that people can have better leg movement?.... awkward) and its fancy metal bars on the side of the wall (so people can have something to brace themselves?.... awkward).  oh, i fully understand why he THOUGHT that stall was a good decision, but he missed one critically important X factor.... me.


What a guy ACTUALLY feels like, when he walks into that stall

As he walked by me, i was literally doing one of those slo-mo movie scenes in my head.  each step he took towards that little flimsy door that was holding back an invisible death, my brain was trying to telepathically scream: “NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!! DON'T DO IT!!!!! IT’S A TRAP!!!!”.  But i obviously didn't say anything, because.... well, that’s a level of awkwardness i’m just not ready for.  

When he finally did open the door, i SAW the pause in his once fluid and determined pace.  he opened the stall and actually paused as the onslaught of vaporous, willpower-testing, chemical warfare engulfed him.  i can only assume his man-pride was the only thing which helped him take the next couple of steps.  

I didnt stay long enough to hear if he threw up or not... it’s possible he could have just disintegrated, but i can only imagine that the green mile must have seemed like a longer walk.  

conclusions:
1) note to self: check the hospital reports/obituaries for the ex-co worker... see if the cops think the cause of death was manslaughter and might come after me.

2) need to spend less time thinking about bathroom things.