You're Ageless, Timeless, Lace And Fineness

over the summer i went ahead and saw Mama Mia - the film adaptation, it was a wonderful movie going experience. two girls a row ahead of me knew all the songs and dances, so they performed along with the cast. i really appreciated it because it brought the movie to life. the tall boy also brought the movie to life, but at a cost. my bladder is comparable in size to a walnut so i had to do the 100m dash right to the bathroom halfway through. and about twenty minutes later i had to go again - but i sure as hell wasn't gonna miss the mystery of the bastard child get solved so i made the difficult decision to sit it out and suffer to the end.

as soon as the movie ended i started power walking (a skill i perfected in 11th grade gym class, thanks mrs.perry) to the bathroom. on the way i passed the two girls and let them know they rocked. when i finally reached the bathroom i was relieved to know i beat the movie-just-let-out bathroom rush and i picked a middle stall (i'm a firm believer that the first stall is in fact the dirtiest) sat down and peed. outside my stall i could hear the first few signs of a crowd, but what i hadn't realized was that in my haste to pee i hadn't locked the stall. i've gotten into a terrible habit of using the bathroom with the door open at my house, and at the houses of friends, which i guess got me too comfortable, and with my carelessness led to the exhibition of that habit in a very public restroom.

so as i'm on the toilet, pants down, squatting and still a nice stream of pee being banished from the body, in other words as vulnerable as one can be, a woman in her mid forties, fresh off a movie musical designed with her in mind and with the prospect of love keeping her high, swung the stall door open, shrieked, apologized, stepped back and let the door swing back shut. i made my grand, shameless exit about 5 seconds later, looked at her, laughed and placed the blame on myself.

i was about to make a clean escape - my back to the lady, when she yelled from the space in front of the stall "wait, is the lock broken?". at this point i had a small audience, i was a little tipsy (or so i'd like to think), and i had no reason to lie so i turned my head, smirked, and said "no i live on the edge like that". her face was priceless - curiosity mixed with confusion. i didn't wanna leave her hanging, but i knew i didn't have time for what i really wanted to do - liberate her! like a race horse when the gates open. i wanted to tell her she too could pee with the door open, and if she wanted she could drink beer in the theater with no regard for the rules. she could throw it all out the window. she could even leave the kids with her mom and take a vacation, or tell off Jim from work. but i didn't because these are things she payed her therapist for.