I have a few fears in life. There are some things that frighten me and I readily admit that one of the more irrational is my concern that a large earthquake will hit while I am occupied in the bathroom.
I know call me crazy, but the thought bothers me. What will my family tell people about how I died. How will my children live down the shame. Can you imagine the teasing on the schoolyard. I hate to think that my obituary might say that I was caught with my pants around my ankles. Think of the imagery here.
What if it was big enough to severely injure me. What if instead of dying I had to crawl to safety with my pants around my ankles and a piece of toilet paper stuck to my shoe. Oh the shame of it all. Not that any of this is likely, but you stranger things have happened.
Today was one of those surreal moments. I was doing my thing at the office when all of a sudden I noticed a head perched above the stall walls. It was attached to a neck and it was clear that he was not standing on stilts nor on a ladder.
For a brief moment I thought that perhaps the NBA had read my blog and sent a hit man to get me. Now I haven’t any fear of a 7 foot tall man, provided that I am standing on my own two feet and not occupied in a closed space, like a bathroom stall.
I immediately looked for ways to defend myself and I am sad to say that the only idea was to engage in the age old Monkey Defense, which sadly was not a martial art but something far more base and primal. It sickened me to consider it, but frankly, violence of any sort sickens me and a man has got to do what a man has got to do.
So as I steeled my mind and prepared for battle I watched the giant head bobble from side to side and I could tell that he was ambling over to a stall down the way. I breathed a sigh of relief, disaster was averted.
A short time later we both exited our stalls and I was sad to see that the giant did not wash his hands. I don’t know what he did in there, but I have my suspicions that he took those oversized and enormous paws and spread germs throughout the building.
And that ends this morning’s potty story.
Hi JG,
I am glad that I am not the only one.
You’re not so crazy. I read about people escaping their burning homes or apartments just in time. Then I worry that my building will catch on fire while I’m in the shower and I’ll have to run out onto my Hell’s Kitchen avenue wet and naked!