Senseful ramblings of an incoherent nature from a delusional schizophrenic (or my views on current events)

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The Locker Room and The Shitter

The Locker Room:

So maybe you know that I go to the gym every day and maybe you dont. But that really doesnt matter. What matters is what goes on at the gym, and Im not talking about the lifting of weights or the swimming in the pool. No. Im talking about the locker room and what happens there. It really isnt that much. I get naked. I shower. I get clothed. I leave. But sometimes other people walk in, walk around, or walk through, most not taking the time to even bat an eye at me.

This time was different though. This time involved a priest. A priest who works out. Nothing wrong with that really.

Ive seen said priest around the gym many times, but never in the locker room. Never when I was standing there as naked as the day I came into this glorious world.

I had just gotten out of the shower room, so I had drops of water covering my silky-smooth, pale-ish skin. I heard the door to the locker room open and quiet steps taken in my direction. I looked at myself in the mirror and removed the towel from my waste. I turned my head in the direction of the steps and saw the priest standing there. He said, "Um, ok," walk past me and sat down behind me.

I continued with my after shower ritual. I put my towel and goggles in the bag, dried off the rest of my body, got dressed and left. Yep. That's the end of the story, sort of...

See, I didnt realize why the priest said, "um, ok" until the next night when I was in my home, drying off from another shower. I looked down and remembered that I keep my balls and general pubic area shaved clean. I can only imagine what the priest might have been thinking! Was he turned on? Did I remind him of a priestly experience with a lil boy? Or has he never seen a full grown man without a bush?

The Shitter:

I have been in three offices over the course of the past 4 months. And by in I dont mean I have visited three offices over that course of time. Nope, that's not what I mean. I mean that I have been moved from one office to another, and then moved myself to this third office. Hell, if I count the office that I go to on mondays, technically I have been in 4 offices in four months, but that's neither here nor there.

This most recent office is a 4 star office building, or so Im told. What gets a building a star or two or four really eludes me

My previous offices were a room in a local township building, where I was secluded from the rest of the worker bees. They were all on one side of the building and I was on the other. Sure I had no windows, but I had a peaceful existence and a bathroom that was rarely busy.

Then, my office was "needed" for a new hire - a former FBI employee who I am sure is much more interesting than me. Or not. Im not sure and who am I to judge. Anyway, Saul Leonard, the township manager (name has been changed to protect the sanctity of Saul), gave me two days notice to pack up my stuff. Then his public works workers came over and moved me to an abandoned school building, which was sometimes used by the area's seniors as their senior center.

I was in the former nurse’s office, or so I was told.

The building itself was built in 1904, and smelled like it. When it rained outside, it rained inside, but only really in my office/nurses station. Thanks Saul. Sure I had electricity, sometimes. And the fan almost made it cool enough for me to not think about how hot it was in there every second, but can I complain? I had a bathroom to myself that only smelled of mold and old building (possibly of old people too, but that smell, I have found, isnt as pungent as old building, so it might have been masked).

I moved myself out of that building and into my new 4 star office building, where I am relegated to a cubicle and surrounded by people who dont know me and dont care. They know Im here, but for what? Ah, that's the question that no one has asked yet. Maybe they will, maybe they wont, again, who am I to speculate.

But the thing about this building that I will never get used to is the shitter. Not the shitter itself, that is fine, but the fact that every time I go in there, someone is always on the crapper making a deposit.

I dont care that people shit at work. Hell, I have. Sometimes you just have to. But it is just odd to me that there is always someone taking a shit when I am in there.

Some people are quiet, like they are waiting for me to leave the bathroom so they can continue with their business. Others are usually quiet, but sometimes let a fart or shit squeak out. Then there are the others who just dont give a shit, or rather, they do give a shit, and a lot of it. These are the people - older people I have found - who just let their shit fly. They fart and shit loudly and dont care what I or anyone else can here. If the door to the bathroom was open, they'd probably shit louder just to make sure that everyone heard them shitting. Of course these people look the most relaxed when they leave their stink stall, so maybe there is something worthwhile to shitting loudly.

But as I said, I just cant get used to it.

3 Comments:

Anonymous BB said...

I am training as a boxer, and Rabbi Moshe's protege showed up at the gym the other day, hitting the bags with yamakah on and all. I smiled at him, but he barely grunted in response. Not nearly as friendly or kind as Rabbi Moshe.

4:06 PM

 
Blogger Luindur said...

Rabbi Moshe excepts all with open arms.... and an open mouth.

4:18 PM

 
Blogger Corey & Carson said...

I have a funny and thoughtful Phillies blog that I think you might enjoy. Come check it out at http://pabaseball.blogspot.com

Hope to see you there, keep spreading the Philly love!

3:38 PM

 

Post a Comment

<< Home