You know what I'm talking about: Those public restrooms you walk into only to find that there's only one toilet, and not multiple stalls and/or urinals???
Yeah, so I was at a Starbucks today and I had a lot of coffee and I had to take a leak, so I went to use the bathroom there.
Now, sometimes you don't know when you're going to walk into a single-toilet bathroom. Usually you can tell by whether there's a handle on the door. If there isn't and all you have to do is push, then there's a good chance that it won't be a single-toilet bathroom.
The Starbucks bathroom did, indeed, have a handle on it. So I was immediately suspicious.
I stepped up to the door, knocked loud and clear, and put my ear up to the 'men' sign to see if I could hear any "I'm in here's!!!"
There was nothing. But I waited another five seconds or so, just in case it was an old man who had slow reflexes.
Still no "I'm in here's!!!"
So I took a deep breath, turned the handle and opened the door.
Lo and fuckin' behold there was a middle-aged dude sitting on the can. Pants were down. Toilet paper was in hand.
"Holy shit!" I realized. "There's a guy in here droppin' a deuce!"
Every joint in my body froze. Paralysis set in. I was a deer in the headlights.
And so wasn't the guy. But, after a moment, he gave me an abashed smile and waved at me.
All I could say in response was "Oh, shit."
I turned around and speed-walked out of the Starbucks, hoping nobody in the cafe would get what just happened. I'm not sure if they did.
And that was that - my first time seeing a grown man naked. Actually, that's a lie. I've seen plenty of grown men naked, but I sure as hell haven't seen one in a while, especially while he was squeezing out a growler.
Now, the question is...was this incident at all my fault? Hell no!!! Here's why:
First of all, this guy dropped a deuce in public. I know, I know - when you gotta go, you gotta go, but it's better to get in the habit of moving your bowels in the confines of your house as soon as you get up in the morning. Yeah, it's not always that easy. But if you're disciplined enough, you can make it happen.
Second, he dropped a deuce in a single-toilet restroom. That's just the most uncourteous thing to do, man. Because poor bastards like myself who just gotta leak are gonna go in there and just die from the smell. At least in multi-toileted bathrooms the smells are somewhat confined to the area within the stalls.
Third, he didn't lock the door! You are in a public, single-toilet bathroom - dropping a mother-friggin deuce - and you don't lock the door? Are you crazy?! All right, maybe this guy really had to go, and forgot to lock up. But this brings me to...
Fourth...he didn't say "I'm in here" when I knocked on the door loud and friggin' clear. You're dropping a deuce in a single-toilet bathroom with an unlocked door and you don't say "I'm in here!!!" when you hear somebody knock?!
OK, maybe he did say "I'm in here" and I just didn't hear him. Maybe that's possible, though I don't think it is, because I was listening VERY carefully. Besides, I don't know about you, but if I was that guy and I heard somebody knock on the door I would be shouting my ass off: "I am so friggin' in here! Don't open the door! If you do, you will be scarred for life! Because the sight of me taking a shit is not at all pretty! Therefore don't open that door, motherfucker!!!"
But he didn't say any of that shit. He just sat on the can, smiling and waving at me.
And because of him, my eyes will never be the same. My irises have since turned from an innocent green to a dirty brown, all because of that dude dropping a deuce in a public, single-toilet bathroom with an unlocked door.
Christ, man, I want to pluck my eyeballs out.
Written a month or two later...
Remember the dude I barged in on at Starbucks? If you're wondering what I'm talking about, read the blog I wrote four or five blogs ago, entitled "Simple rules for single toilet bathrooms".
Because I kind of have a funny update on that...
I was at the Shaws in Sharon, MA early this evening and I was thinking to myself, "man I kinda gotta take a leak right now." And then I said, "Hmmmm...maybe I can swing by Starbucks, get myself a coffee and take a leak there." But then I remembered, "No, not a good idea. I'll have to deal with the single-seater bathroom and with my luck another guy will be dropping a deuce without locking the door and without saying 'I'm in here' after I knocked." And then the image of that guy dropping a deuce entered my mind (see blog). And then I felt sick. And then I decided to hold my leak in.
All these thoughts must have been part of some psychic premonition. Because as soon as I step out of Shaws and into the parking lot I see a familiar hat...and a familiar jacket...and a familiar face. "Holy friggin' crap!" I exclaimed to myself. "That's the guy I saw dropping loaf in the Starbucks bathroom!"
I'm serious. It was definitely the guy. I could never forget the hunting-like cap and multi-colored sweater-like-deal he sported. In fact, he was wearing the exact same outfit he was when he was dropping...similar tan-looking pants, scuffed brown boots and all.
So, then, about two seconds later our eyes locked. And he stared at me for about five seconds. There was recognition in his face. Could he have possibly remembered me? I think he could have. But I didn't want to stick around and find out.
I slid my new pair of shades down from my head, covered my eyes and speed-walked to my car. I was out of there, man. Because, seriously, I felt raped of my innocence all over again. It was like randomly bumping into a guy who you knew molested you as a child. Well...kind of like that. Bottom line is I felt dirty and violated.
Should I have asked him about the incident? Why he was dropping a deuce in a single-seater bathroom with the door unlocked? Why he didn't say "I'm in here" when I knocked? Yes, I probably should have. But I was too scared. I panicked. And fled.
I should also probably mention that, having gotten an even better look at this guy, I have determined that he was, indeed, capable of locking a bathroom door and yelling "I'm in here!" after I knocked. In other words, he didn't appear to be handicapped or mentally challenged, nor did he seem to be an idiot, asshole or dipshit.
Again, this is no joke. Beware. Be afraid. Because there are perfectly normal-looking people out there who don't lock single-seater bathrooms or yell "I'm in here" when they drop doogans. And what can you do? Knock louder??? How loud can one friggin' knock?! No, you just have to accept the fact that it's going to happen to you eventually, like it did to me. You WILL "barge" in on a grown man dropping a deuce in a single-seater bathroom one day. And he WILL wave at you and smile like he did to me (hmmmm...something else I should have asked him about).
OK, that's all. Have a good night.