How To Look Like An Ass
Thought up: 12.9.03 – 9:17am
Written: 12.9.03 - 9:19 am
#26

I had maybe stayed out a bit too late last night doing things I probably shouldn’t have been on a weekday, but it was fun. I went to bed about 6 a.m. to take a quick nap before heading off to the training class I had enrolled in. I was doing the head-bobs for about the first hour of class, and sucked back 5 or 6 coffees only to be teased by the old lady sitting next to me because I “reeked of alcohol.”
“No problem, I’ll just breathe the other way lady. Who are you anyway, the Anti-Fun Police? I know when you were my age back in 1910, you probably did this stuff too!”
She backed off. I dosed off to be woken up by the instructor slamming a router on my desk and questioning what it was.
“Oh, um, that’s a router,” I said with a hint of slobber slip-slidin’ from the corner of my mouth.
“It appears as though we need to have our break now, as I’m putting people to sleep! 15 minutes, be back in your seats awake and ready to learn!”
I slithered out of my desk, and out the door to the restroom. Now keep in mind, what I’m about to tell you happened all in a matter of about 6 seconds, but just the goings-on in my head take up the majority of it all…
I walked into the bathroom ready to do my business, and turned to the one urinal in the bathroom, walking past the one handicap accessible stall, and the non-handicap accessible stall, to find this guy in wheelchair scooted up to the stand-up urinal! No, he wasn’t standing, he was just sitting there, and I “assume” he was just sitting back and watching it fly, or else he was a real lady-pleaser before he got into his chair (wink wink). I was a bit curious, but that’s all I let it get to. I didn’t want to look like a pervert by walking up and taking a gander at what caliber gun he was slinging. So I reckoned I’d hit another one, confused, but not deterred. So I moseyed into the regular stall to take care of the matter at hand. I thought to myself,
Me: “Self, the regular stall is way too close to the other guy peeing right next to me, and when he drives away, he will, odds are, run over my feet. I don’t want that. We’d both be embarrassed then. On top of that, I think I should use the handicap stall because I also don’t want him to think that he was putting me out because he took up the single urinal in the place. I wanted to be democratic about the situation. He uses that one, I use his; we’ll both be happy. So, clearly, the best idea would be to use the handicap stall. So I open back up the door, and move into the handicap stall. Once I got in, I gave it a quick thought, because I had to go, to leave the door ajar to the stall though so people wouldn’t come in and see me with the door closed taking a number 2, and then look over and see the handicap guy using the urinal and get mad at me. So leaving the door open wide enough to see that I was just peeing, on with the show.
So about 1.5 seconds into the show, I realize,
Me: “People are STILL gonna think that I took this guy’s stall because I’m in here now, it may just be peeing, but I’m STILL doing it! I better switch stalls!”
So I stopped with the deed, pinched it off, (yes, I can stop mid-stream) and slowly backed up, unit in hand, and started moving to the other stall. While my little fiasco is going on, moving and all, the guy in the wheelchair is done with his business, and backing the chair up to get to the sink totally nixing my efforts and what they stood for! The wheelchair guy’s head is about 5 inches from my “unit” and I’m trying to get into the other stall before we have a most awkward bump, when some dude walks in!

“Dear God, strike me down with lightning now, please. It would be much easier than trying to explain why my penis is 3 inches from a guys head in the men’s restroom.”
How uncomfortable is this now! I can just imagine what’s going through this other guy’s head.

Other Guy: “Oh great, we have some sort of wise-ass here that really hates people in wheel chairs planning to take a leak on him! Good thing I came in to stop this from happening! Should I jump this guy to stop him from snipering this old guy in the wheelchair? Better yet, I should turn his ass in! Kids these days are so unruly! I should kick him in the junk!”
Before the guy is able to kick me in the junk, ANOTHER dude walks in and sees me standing there with my little earthworm in hand.
Me: “Hello God, LIGHTNING ANYTIME NOW!”
Lovely I think, simply lovely. So I do what any self-respecting man would do. I nonchalantly put my little buddy back in my pants, and act as if I was COMING OUT of the stall and just leaving! However, every guy knows, if you’re midstream and pinch it off with the pointer-finger and thumb, when you let go, you’re gonna spill a bit. A little streak ensued down my pant leg (insert peanut gallery sneers here). But I figured it was better than whatever the guys that just came in must have been thinking. At least this way I wouldn’t look like a sick pervert, and perhaps I could even get some sympathy for being a bed-wetter…