Functionally ReTodded

As you my readers may be aware, I am not fond of the public restroom.  At least for doing work whilst sitting.  As a matter of fact, I can’t do it. Like in a restaurant or gas station or an airport.

Will.  Not.  Do.  It.

I have trained myself to be able to do that sort of thing at the office if absolutely necessary, although I prefer to do it at home.

That training was difficult and took a great deal of bravery on my part, but I finally pushed past my fears enough to go number two at my office.

But that may have ended today.

I decided that it couldn’t wait until I got home, so I did the walk of shame and took up my usual seat in the handi-capable stall.  And I commenced.

Then I did what any human being with an ounce of compassion would do after the initial effort:

The courtesy flush.

So I’m sitting there, having courteously flushed and I’m trying to figure out how to re-add brickbreaker to my temporary replacement  Blackberry.

Then, way back in the storage department of my brain, a little message fires across the synapses.  It says "Hmmm…that’s funny.  My balls are cold."

Then it says more assertively, "Hey…why are my balls cold?"

And so, having worked thru the first two stages of the command system, the message was brought to the front of the brain where I said "Thanks guys.  I’ll look into it."

Which I did.

I looked down between my thighs into the bowl, and see that the water level is high.

Very high.

So high that my balls are floating / hanging in it.

And then my lizard brain screams "STAND UP!!!  THERE’S POO IN THAT THERE WATER!!!  YOUR BALLS ARE FLOATING IN POO WATER!!"

So there I am, hovering as you girls talk about, and realizing this is a pretty serious issue considering I’m not done yet.  I also realize that I can’t hover like this forever as my delicate thighs haven’t been trained for this.

There were several options to consider:

1) Shuffle out of my stall and into the other one, half crouching, and finishing there.
Pros:  I’d be done shortly
Cons:  I’d have to strip down from the waist down to avoid making a bombing run halfway there in my own pants or on my own shoes.

2) Try flushing again.
Pros:  Possibly it’s a little clog and that little jump start will make everything work again.
Cons:  If the water didn’t go away and further, rose again, I’d be standing in and covered in my own filth-riddled toilet water.

And just then, as my thighs were about to give out and before I could come up with another option, a small noise happened and the water all drained away.

I exhaled, finished, tidied up, got all my clothes back in the proper places, hit flush, and bolted out of the stall, hoping against hope to wash my hands and flee before the toilet decided to overflow again.

And I nearly ran smack into another dood from over in Global Marketing.

That made for an awkward non-explanation, I assure you.

Remember all of those retarded superstitions you had in high school, college or even today?  When I looked up and saw it was 11:11pm, I realized two things:

A) I hadn’t blogged today, and

2) This would make for a pretty easy entry.  (That’s what she said).

Here are the ones I remember well.

• Make a wish whenever you saw that it was 11:11 on a digital clock.  This was mostly a chick one, but if I remembered, I would wish that a girl would deign to touch my netherness.
• Punch Buggy - I can’t remember all the rules, but if you saw a VW bug, you got to punch who you were in the car with, if it was a certain color you got to punch more, and if it had a headlight out, I think you got to kill them.
• Reaching forward toward the very front of the dashboard in the car when you crossed a state line.  Don’t know why anyone did this, but the wife and I still do to this day.  I’ve even convinced her that my feet while driving reach further forward than what she can reach with her hand, so now we’ve started opening the windows and reaching out that way.  Very safe.
• There was some dumb thing about when you got thru a yellow light, kissing your palm and touching the ceiling in the car.  That was a chick thing, but seriously, you’re a teenage girl driver.  Shouldn’t you be paying more attention?
• If you passed a cemetery, you’d have to lift the index finger of whichever hand was on the side of the cemetery.

I’m not sure what the point of this was, beyond getting a post in for the day.  I didn’t want to rail over the media’s fawning over the king of pop/pedophilia, so this will have to do.

It’s my birthday week this week peeps.  In honor of that, I’ve given most of you the day off Friday.  In exchange, if you’d like to buy me an iTouch or an iPhone, that’d just be great.

Shalom bitches.

FRT