Thursday, February 14

You're in

I've had a fair amount of urinal chat this week.

Last Friday, at a Fish Fry in a VFW Hall in Suburban Cleveland, a boy scout (don't ask) inquired "How I was doing" during my call of nature.

Flying home from Ohio, the guy next to Anne on the plane stood up, explaining to her that he "Needed to Hit the Head". Apparently it's a sailing term. Just sounds crass to me.

At work we discussed at length, the height (can you discuss height, at length?) of the 2nd urinal in the Men's bathroom. We have a disabled access stall. Do we really need a kiddie height urinal? Best suggestion was to have a small portable step in case we ever hire a small person. Probably a Health & Safety violation.

I was reminded this week of the time I worked in Pittsburgh and was freaked out by people talking to me as I pee'd. Finally on my last day, I said hello to the guy stood next to me. Turned out he had one of those electronic voice boxes. Knob in one hand, mechanical larynx in the other. Great.

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