194-Forks and Knives

Parts of the following story have been replaced to clean up any offensive language. The words in parenthesis and bold express the meanings behind the terminology without actually including the naughty words. Unless you think “poop” is too naughty for you, in which case you should just stop reading now.


Lena and Kristy (my sister) and I went to go see Across the Universe last week. (SUPER movie! I heartily recommend it.) Our movie date coincided with the release of the new operating system for the Macintosh,Leopard. Lena has been waiting for this for a year and she would not be denied.

The movie started at 7:10, the Apple store opened it’s doors at 6. (They had closed two hours earlier to prepare the store. This was a big event and they were expecting lines. They weren’t disappointed.

After we got the new OS, we still had close to an hour to kill before the movie. We went across the street to the Alehouse for drinks. I had to go to the restroom and excused myself.

It was the day before the big Florida-Georgia game (that was a good tussle!) and the bars were full, as were their bathrooms. There was one stall open, everything else was in use, and there was a very tall, loud, late-fiftyish man yelling into a cell phone standing in front of it. I walked up to him and stood there for a beat. He ignored me.

“Excuse me.” I said loudly. He took a step forward without acknowledging my presence and continued streaming invective into the phone. While I urinated, I listened to him yelling. It seemed that he had hired some(hotdog eater) to drive a (having sexual relations with someone’s mom) car to Tampa, and the(having sexual relations, and being someone who masturbates) hadn’t even showed to pick the car up yet. Apparently it was already late to its destination. I smiled as I considered the poor dude now getting his (the part of you where the poop comes out) verbally reamed by Mr. Pottymouth. I thought if I were that guy, I wouldn’t have showed up either. Pottymouth seemed to represent to me all that is the worst in all the bosses I have ever known. As I listened, it seemed like the person receiving his bile was most likely his wife, and I wondered about what kind of woman lived with a person this angry. His sense of entitlement and outrage at a world that refused to acknowledge him as its superior seemed to grow with every (person who has sexual relations with someone’s mom), (what you do with the paper after you get done pooping), and(having sexual relations-someone who has sexual relations — with his head?) he threw into the phone.

I left the stall and walked around him to the sink. I was beginning to laugh now at how ridiculous this man seemed. Somehow I couldn’t find it in me to take him as seriously as he did. I decided that sometimes the universe does get it right, and bad things do happen to bad people.

As I turned to the door, still chuckling to myself, I caught Pottymouth’s eye totally by accident. He took a half-step forward and pointed at me. (Though the phone never left his mouth.) “Hey you! You have a job? You want to make a hundred dollars?”

It is rare when the universe positions you at exactly the proper place to take part in something so simple, yet so elegant it almost seems like a spiritual experience — if not in your own life, then perhaps in the life of another human being. “(Have sexual relations with yourself).” I said grinning, and walked out the bathroom door.

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