Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Chapter 39: Bathroom Breaks

I suppose I’m making myself very vulnerable right now, but for those of you interested in Freudian analyses try not to get come on your keyboard:

I have recurring nightmares where I’m sitting on a toilet, going to the bathroom, and there’s no stall and the toilet is just in the middle of everything and everyone. I have had dreams where the only available toilet would be in the middle of my college dorm hallway, a classroom right next to the teacher’s desk, an office next to my boss’ desk, the UCB stage during a show, in front of the flatscreen in a living room at a party, and anywhere else where the public is basically staring at me going to the bathroom. It’s horrible and I know I need a lot of counseling, but I cannot help but have these recurring dreams and I just think it’s integral that I share this with you.

Susan Ellen has no door to her office bathroom. What the fuck? Who just takes down a door to the bathroom? The hinges were there. The soap was moist. This was a workable bathroom, but who uses it sans door?

Susan Ellen said she never minded me using that bathroom. She didn’t care if I was peeing a visible three feet away from her.

Sure, I’ve gotten drunk at parties and peed in front of my girlfriends in the bathroom because it’s the only place we could make fun of gross people making out with each other. But peeing in front of my boss? No fucking way!

Therefore, anytime I ever felt the urge, I had to walk all the way downstairs with Susan Ellen constantly saying, “Really! I don’t mind.”

I do!

Even though she probably couldn’t hear the actual tinkle hitting the water, I minded. Going to the bathroom was the only place and time I could make fun of Susan Ellen with the person who understands my situation best: myself.

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