Toilet Talk: Crank it Up

I just had one of the most intriguing of restroom experiences. If you're thinking, "Yeah, this is what I hoped I'd be reading about today," I know, it's weird. Yesterday is spiritual confession and life-altering decisions, today is what went through my mind while dropping the kids off at the pool. Deal with it.

I'm at Scooter's, a coffee shop in Lincoln, Nebraska. After grading papers for over an hour, I felt that nature was calling me collect. I answered and was disappointed. As I entered the dookie den, the music got quieter. Strange, to me, that a place of business would decrease the noise factor when you're doing your business. Is it so one can concentrate more intently? Because the restroom is a place of raucous, cacophonous sounds, I thought a louder soundtrack would be appreciated. I would have love to have sung along with "Rain King," but it was barely audible and tinny. I say, "Crank it up."

But wait, that's not all. When I opened the door, the light flicked on automatically. I had experienced this before, of course, but never had I been stranded, sans pants, when the same light automatically flicked off. All of a sudden, I had a vague sense of what it is like to be stranded on a deserted island. There I was, perched on porcelain, alone. It's a kooky thing to be stuck in a foreign bathroom with not light. In my own home, there is always enough light to see where I pee. But now it was up to sonar. The joy in this was that with the light went the fan. With that extra noise gone, the music was much more intelligible.

"Just my luck," I thought. "I don't even know this song."