Signs

© Crystal Dawn. All Rights Reserved.

Has your mind ever been drawn back to a personal experience that made you grin? Perhaps even possessed you to giggle aloud while sitting, let's say, in the doctor's office. You know, a full blown belly laugh causing the other patients in the waiting room to inadvertently glare in your direction. More likely than not, thinking to themselves "He/she's one flew over the cuckoo's nest" while feigning to notice a fly on the wall just above your head.

Yes, it was a long week and I was completely drained well beyond exhaustion. You see, I just spent the past five days in Little Rock, Arkansas at a "Deaf Conference". Am I deaf? Not at all, but it has been rumored a time or two (who am I kidding? I lost count.), that some have been known to lend a deaf ear to my vain babblings. I know, I too was shocked!

All kidding aside (at least for the moment); I'm an <i>American Sign Language</i> (ASL) interpreter. I had flown to Arkansas to hone in on the skill of flailing my hands through the air, and no one ever thought I was strange.

Sitting in the airport like a bump on a log with my mind in space somewhere between Mars and Venus, I could barely move a muscle. The task of flailing arms accompanied by strange facial expressions to tie it all together is quite taxing on the skeletal system. Oh, I clearly felt my bladder sending endless messages to my brain pleading for release as I waited to board my ticket back to my little corner of the world.

This is the only time I would have gladly worn Depends (adult diapers) beneath my long flowing Jones New York skirt.

As luck would have it, my bladder, after much debate, won the battle of the bulge. Off I went in search of the throne room. There I am squatting over a porcelain goddess as we ladies do. While my leg muscles were screaming obscenities at me a rather strange sound captured my attention. Nope, it wasn't someone in the next stall passing gas, but it could have been, eh?

Have you ever heard a man, when he's attempting to force that gross green substance from his esophagus up into his mouth in order to see how far he can launch his spittle? Well, that's the sound that startled me to attention.

I thought to myself, "Self, that is the grossest thing I've ever heard a lady do."

Upon completion of my duly noted veneration for the day, I flushed the porcelain goddess with my left foot as is commonplace with me. I'm the sorta gal that dare not touch the door handles no less use these lady fingers to engage in the act of touching a public flusher. Upon opening the stall door with a tissue (purse always equipped), I exited the confines of the throne room.

I don't know for the life of me where the man standing in front of that wall lined with porcelain gods to my left came from, actually, I don't even know where the porcelains gods came from. I hadn't noticed them upon my entry.

Needless to say, I can't recall any other instance, when I exited a public restroom at such a rapid pace. Dare I say, I didn't bother to stop and wash my hands? Please don't start viscous rumors about me as I did have a small travel pack of wipes (purse always equipped) on hand.

Moral of the story: Though your mind and body be weary, be sure to keep a LOOKOUT for all important signs!

Men's Room or Ladies Room come to mind?

Author's Note

Yes, it's a true story! Don't let this happen to you!

Reviews

[julian3]

No matter which room you are in - whether following the age old traditions of gentlemen and gentlewomen, or striking the fiery blow against sexist roles in restroom assignments by flagrantly entering the men's room - that sound you describe is enough to cause anyone to purge their stomachs... and I can't help wondering if you happened to encounter the same fellow later, in the waiting area... or if you prudently kept a large newspaper covering your face for the duration ;o) Thanks for sharing this one - a smile is always welcome!

[Becca]

Now that explains where you have been!
Good to see a piece of writing from you and thanks for a much needed laugh!