Toilet Talk

I just got sucked into some Vanity Fair article when I was using the bathroom (is it too early to admit I read in the bathroom?)…felt like I was there for about twenty minutes, but when I return, the clock tells me it has only been three. The Vanity Fair article was about drug addicted musicians in the 70’s (the ones that are still alive to talk about it, anyway). It said that Steven Tyler snorted baby laxatives once thinking it was coke and ended up almost “farting himself off stage” during a performance. I laughed out loud, echoing all over the tiles of our dingy (although very clean) bathroom. It is depressing to me that even something very clean can look dingy. Maybe if it had some sort of natural light, it would be better. When they made the men’s room the ladies’ room last year, they installed a little wooden bench, that looks like the kind of slatted wood benches that you would see in a sauna. It is a nice little bench. Thing about it is, it sits right next to the stall. So, the purpose remains a mystery to me. I don’t even like to be in the same room when a co-worker is doing their business, much less sitting right next to them on a little bench. It is almost like a two-seater outhouse only one person is just joining the other to talk politics.