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Definately camped out in the ''miscellaneous ramblings'' category of life...
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Thursday, February 25, 2010
I admit I’m anal, but in a good way. I have a set of rules that I frankly expect all of us to follow. At all times. Like no farting in the hallway or stairwell. Just because you’re the only one there at the moment doesn’t mean it’s OK to drop bombs, especially if you have hang-time talent. Same goes for cologne and perfume…you wanna take a bath in the stuff, then fine…go for it. Just do me a favor and stay in your home where you can wilt your own plants and burn your own retinas. And if you run into a friend at the grocery store and decide to chit-chat, please don’t stand there like a couple of high school dorks blocking the aisle. Yes, *I* moved your cart on you so I could get by. Trust me, that went over better than had I said “Pardon me, you ignorant potato-head.”
And don’t even get me started if you load your groceries into your car, and then casually push the cart aside so that it can then blow into *my* car.
But this one is a bit odd, even for me - I can’t stand to see “things” in the urinal when I go to pee. I’m compelled to pee them off so that they go down the drain, and I am left with a spotless porcelain landscape. Usually it’s just a hair or two, and doing target practice to bomb them down is kind of fun. Don’t laugh…what the hell else am I going to do to entertain myself while standing there? Make fun of the guy standing next to me who is peeing while his hands are in his pockets? That only gets me so far.
But for the past several weeks there has been some type of string stuck in the drain. When I first spotted it I saw it as a challenge, a step up from the usual curly hairs. Granted, some hairs are themselves a challenge just because they seem like they came off some 500 pound gorilla. Who the hell do I work with that has pubes that freakin long? It’s disgusting. I want to hang electrolysis ads in there just to drop a hint.
But this string was special. For starters it was thicker than a hair, so I knew it was probably hung up on the drain slots. It would require a few different “streams” to dislodge it. When I failed the first time, I was worried that I had just loosened it, and someone else was going to come along and take the prize. So I made sure I drank extra water just so I could get back in there as fast as I could.
Much to my delight, it was still there. I took a deep breath, aimed carefully, and held off as long as I could so that the first blast would be forceful, and not some measly trickle. And I nailed the sucker! I was right on target with a force that brought images of police using a water cannon against unruly protesters. (Hmmmm…”cannon”…I like the sound of that).
But the sucker only wiggled around, taunting me. When I had expelled the last remnants of the gallon of water I had wolfed down to prepare, I stood there a defeated man.
Day after day it went on like this. At first I was excited to see it still there each morning, and I began my assault anew. I tried different combinations of water, coffee, and tea, trying to see if varying friction properties might finally do the trick. But nothing worked. Soon it became a thing that taunted me, speaking to me in its little string-in-a-urinal voice. “What’s the matter tough guy, pressure gone down in your old age? Look at me, I’m just a pathetic little string. Maybe you should just focus on those wimpy hairs you enjoy peeing down so much. You ain’t got what it takes for this piece of action, Cupcake”.
Now I dread going in there, like it’s a daily assault on my manhood. Time and time again I’m tempted to reach in and pluck that little bitch out of there, but I’m too afraid I’ll get caught making audible death threats to something barely visible that I just yanked out of where I pee, like some drunk in the subway trying to eat the urinal candy. I thought about using another bathroom, but that would be like admitting defeat.
I’d like to say there’s a happy ending to this story, but I fear it’s still there, waiting for me. Soon I will know, as I have had two cups of coffee and a cup of water. It’s only a matter of time. My life is out of balance because of this. My ying is slightly heavier than my yang. My karma is tilted. My feng shui has clutter. Nothing will be right in my life until I watch that little bastard slip through the crack of the urinal drain, screaming its little screams against the onslaught of my Death Pee.
Maybe this afternoon I’ll break diet protocol and try drinking a bottle of Coke…
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