Exactly four months ago today, I was setting out my tux and unwrapping a pair of superman cufflinks that my fiancé had given me. And then I got married and the remaining time between then and now have been totally boring and uneventful. Pftht.
The Four Month Anniversary, as everyone knows, is the Public Bathroom Story Anniversary, so in honor of that, voila:
The men’s bathroom on the second floor of the University at Buffalo Law School smells bad. I mean, I think they should market to Tupperware that room’s ability to keep fresh air from circulating in, because I’m pretty sure the poo smells that exist in that potty have been there since the dawn of time. People reading about Jesus v. Romans as a current event left a mark in that bathroom that lingers today.
Suffice it to say, no one wants to hang out in there any longer than they need to, especially me. So when I walked in this morning, I was faced with an ethical and hygienical decision. I’m a bit of a germ freak to begin with, so washing my hands is a must. Upon doing so, though, I noticed that there was not a scrap of paper towel left in any of the dispensers. Do I use the warm air dryer, or should I spend my time doing more useful activities, like poking myself in the eye with a sharp stick?
Here’s my thinking:
Good thing about warm air dryer: it’s environmentally friendly
Good thing about warm air dryer: it’s hygienically beneficial
Good thing about warm air dryer: let’s face it, I am an adult, and would rather not walk around with wet hands.
Bad thing about warm air dryer: THEY DON’T WORK. They simply give you a place to stand while the water evaporates from your hands. I’m telling you, it’s a placebo.
Besides, they take too long, and remember I’m in the stink-factory. I weighed my options and used the warm air dryer anyway. A few minutes later, my hands were still moist, and my mind was split between two thoughts: 1) those endurance tests they put you through in boot camp, and 2) the relative absorbent power of my pant legs. Yeah, that’s right. I’m man enough to admit that I ended up reverting to the tried and true childhood method of “wipe-hands-on-pants”, but I’m also man enough to admit that I carefully stayed away from my crotchal area, just in case anyone thinks I wee-weed on myself.
Happy anniversary, LG!
1 year ago