Like all human beings, the bladder can only hold so much. When it's time to go, it's time to go. I ventured to the 2nd floor restroom in my place of biz to do my biz/whizz and Surrealism hit me like a sledgehammer made of jello right on the left eyebrow. 4 urinals in standard formation are located on a wall, with dividers to separate them. No one was in there, the lights were shining to their best florescent hurtfulness. I'm territorial, I generally if possible use the third urnial from the left. In my melon it's my unrinal just as much as my desk is my desk. I meandered to my urinal, what a composition. In the past there have been pens/post-its/chewed wads of gum...standard things that "well whatever", today there was a half eaten donut.
A half eaten donut resting on the Urinal top ledge, crumbs scattered over approximately 15% of the ceramic whiz receptical. Florescent lights, crumbed half eaten donut, my spot... "ever laugh out loud while you're trying to pee?" (I couldn't decide if I wanted to remove said donut, or leave it for the next bathroom break... I left it).
So... imagine. Surreal, very surreal.
Todays Randomness is brought to you by a half eaten urinal donut, the word jactitation • \jak-tuh-TAY-shun\ • noun
: a tossing to and fro or jerking and twitching of the body, and the number 15%.
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Yeah... I think I'd've left it, too. Not that I'm well-versed in the ways of the urinal, but I'm thinking that anyone who considers the bathroom a good place to snack might be lacking in a few of the finer points of social niceties... moving their cheese, er, I mean, doughnut, might be a dangerous proposition.
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