This that and the other thing. Though there might be more of this than that. And little of the other things. Maybe.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Stories For Boys

Earlier this week I had a pretty ..interesting day. Two incidents that I would find amusing, maybe somewhat disturbing, on their own. The fact that they happened on the same day had me wondering if it was the full moon. It wasn't, although it was new moon eve so maybe that had some bearing on the day.

Anyway mid-morning I encounter a woman in the ladies room. Actually, I never talked to her, acknowledged her or even made eye contact with her. The woman comes in and attempts to go into the first stall. However the cleaning lady is in there. This woman, I'll call her the Toilet Palaver or TP for short, encounters the closed door and says, "What are you doing in My Toilet!??" She pauses, I hear a zipper, then TP continues, "Get out of my stall right now!" Nothing happens so TP goes into the second stall from which I hear a variety of exclamations.

"Oh sweet Jesus! I didn't think I was going to make! Oh thank you Lord! Shit!" There's a slight pause while a toilet flushes and then TP says, "Oh, I mean shoot."

As I go by her stall I see that the door isn't locked. I know this because the door isn't even closed. I hurry towards the sink as I want to get out of there before TP emerges. No such luck. TP exits her stall and proceeds to pull up her pants as she walks to the sinks. I quickly stop looking in the wall of mirros above the sinks & focus intently on washing my hands. TP continues her discourse to nobody.

"Wow that was like a ton of bricks. I didn't think I was going to make it. It was a lead weight. Thank you Jesus!"

I scurry out of there as quick as I can, only grabbing a paper towel to open the doors (it's scary how many people don't wash their hands), not to dry my hands. After I commiserate with a couple coworkers I find out that TP doesn't close the stall door and usually has her pants most of the way down (or her skirt hiked up) before she reaches the stall. Lovely.

My other encounter was after work. I was waiting for the bus just out front of the building. There's a construction project going on across the street and there's always workers of some sort in the area. Anyway, I glance over at the only truck parked in the metered spots and see a group of workers hanging around. Fine, whatever, no big deal. Then I see the shortest of the group take his pants off.

This isn't normal. I blink a couple of times to clear my eyes, make sure I'm actually seeing what I think I'm seeing. I am. Guy has his pants all the way off and is wearing a pair of, very tight, teal colored briefs. I quickly avert my eyes because if he's okay stripping to his briefs on a public, fairly heavily traveled street, what's to say he won't be taking off anything else?

His cohorts don't seem to think much of it. A couple of the people at the bus stop with me are looking a tad dazed but there's no uproar or anything. Maybe it's a cultural thing? Perhaps I should be stripping off my pants while waiting for the bus? Hmmm. I don't think so.
Comments:
Why exactly are these "stories for boys?"
 
Stories For Boys is a song (& a lyric). It was in my head when I wrote this entry, therefore it became the title.

Plus as Someone told me when I first related these incidents, they sound like stories. Which is prolly why the lyric popped into my head in the first place.
 
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