The World Is My Bathroom:
As if the attitudes are not enough to deal with over toilet issues, there is a whole other aspect to the misery of CLOSED restrooms. One memorable night two young men pulled up to the gas pump closest to me. They approach. Young man #1 (dope dealer #1) says, “ten dollars on eight.” Young man #2 (dope dealer #2) says one guttural word, “Bathroom.” In my best, oh geez, sincerest apologies tone I say, “Sorry, it’s closed.” Off he goes around the building. Fine. That’s not unusual. What catches my attention is the sudden outburst of laughter from future inmate #1, as he looks in the direction of future inmate #2. At first, I have no clue, maybe #2 was actually taking a #2, it happens. Before I can contemplate any further he reappears, gets in the car, and they drive out of my life forever. The station is now empty, so I decide to go outside through the employee door ,which is on the same side as the outdoor restroom customers created. Oh yeah, and it is also the same side my 1998 Iroc is parked on. Damn. So this is what was so effin funny. I stood for a minute in shock and horror as my eyes were transfixed on the pee dripping from my drivers side door handle. And there was so much of it all over the door. How does a human bladder even hold this much liquid? Why? I mean… WTF? Was the ground too hard for the (to this day I’m hoping) drunk-going-to-be-involved-in-a-drug-bust-one-day ass to aim for. After the initial shock, I let go of a long flow of obscenities into the night air. I just do not care. If a customer approaches, I will explain the situation. If they can’t understand what I’m going through, fuck ’em. A moment like this…changes a person.