2004-06-08
It was a pit-staining 98 degrees today here in the STL. And between working out, running to the bank three times, the office, and Marquette, I was quite the space cadet. I didn't even have an opportunity to shower between the gym and Marquette. While logic points to the smell as the cause of my sluggishness and the put-offedness of those around me, I point the finger squarely at the oppressive heat. Don't think you're just gonna waltz past Go on this one, Sun.EXHIBITION OF TODAY'S NEAR CATATONIA: I came home briefly late afternoon to pick up some stuphph, and Amie was there, reading in the living room. I stumble through the door with my hair all plastered to my forehead and my shirt unbuttoned. We exchange greetings and I amble over to the bathroom after a quick time-out at the fridge, and I start to take a nice long whiz. Only as the lizard's nearly drained do I glance over my shoulder and see that I've left the bathroom door WIDE open.
ANDY: "Amie! ...I seem to have forgotten that you were here!"
AMIE: "I was wondering why it was so loud!"
ANDY: "Well, that's my atomic pee for you."
AMIE: "...Yeah."
ANDY: "...Yeah."
Now you may be thinking, "Andy Hobin, despite the fact that you're a handsome devil, you are one inconsiderate roommate. I'd rather spend a summer in John Wayne Gacy's garage than in a South St. Louis townhouse with you."
In my defense, you could dismiss that as inconsideration for my subletter, but I wasn't IGNORING her. No, she wasn't even a piece of the cerebral landscape of my apartment that my mind had been composing since the second I walked in the door. I couldn't have been ignoring her. For all intents and purposes, I was so far off in Happy Happy Funland that I didn't even KNOW she was there, so I just let it rain with the door open.
Still don't believe me? Well how about stage fright? Eh? If I knew she was there... and could hear me going to the bathroom... do you honestly think I would've been able to go??? CASE IN POINT: Last night at the Tivoli, I had to go, so I saddled up to the only available urinal - the one right next to an old man. And I couldn't go.
Usually, if one has a little stage fright, they have a secret weapon to help them go. Mine is heavy metal music. Get that rocking in my head and I zen out the guy next to me and let 'er rip. Works pretty well. But for as much White Zombie as I had coursing through my synapses last night, I couldn't do it. I just stood there impotently in front of the urinal, not peeing for about half a minute. And the guy next to me HAD to have known, cuz he was peeing so loud you could probably hear it from the stalls. Sounded like a horse.
After what seemed like an eon, he was done. I think felt sorry for me because he didn't wash his hands, seemingly opting for a hasty exit. And the SECOND he was out the door, the floodgates opened.
I didn't even know this old bastard. Amie, I know. And considering all that I went through the other night with a complete stranger, do you think that I could justify peeing with the door open if I was just "ignoring" her? Thought not. Case closed. Vote government.
That said, I need to finally go take a shower. (And it won't be golden. Sickies.)
-Andy