Porcelain Waltzer

So in the grand tradition of holiday togetherness, my family and I took the opportunity to revel in the movie-going festivities of Christmas Monday. After all, what better way to enjoy real quality time together than to spend two hours watching the same colorful flashing images in lieu of actual conversation? It seems to be my family's social gathering of choice, and who can blame us? Conversation is hard work!

We decided on Fun With Dick and Jane, starring Jim Carrey and Téa Leoni, respectively. During the movie, I found myself in need a potty break; luckily it wasn't one of those posturing Tom Clancy thrillers that injects a pretense of plot complexity by flooding your senses with irrelevant details and if you even miss one second or word or gesture the entire movie will be lost on you because it's so complicated and you have to know every detail and oh my god what jargon are they speaking gosh it sounds so complex! Yeah, it wasn't one of those.


Thankful that I could make my way to the restroom with a clear conscience, I stepped inside and realized I had a decision to make:



Any veteran of urinals can appreciate the situation: You've gasped your way to the restroom. You stop. You stare down the line of urinals in trepidation. You could choose the first one because that's the closest, but it's also the short one for those incontinent brats who make you avert your eyes when they pee 2 feet away from the urinal. That one definitely gets the most spatter. You could choose the second one because it's not the short urinal and it's also pretty close, but it's probably also the most frequently used since everyone else is undoubtedly thinking the same thing.

So you think, what about the last one? The last one, hm, it's a tempting choice. But then you think, "Wait, every OCD case in the world probably picks that one." Everyone thinks the last one is the cleanest, but in reality it's the dirtiest one that the janitor never bothers to clean cause he's probably itching to get out of there by the time he reaches it. The last one is out. The situation is getting desperate. You have not yet chosen. You are getting nervous, and Oh No! a toilet just got flushed and you hear the trickling water and the urge is greater than ever. You are afraid.




Blink.





You hurriedly choose the second-to-last urinal. Free of OCD patients, incontinent children, and impatient spatterers, it is the ideal urinal. Success.



You head back to the sink and carefully wash your hands. Back in the movie, Jim Carrey is belting out R. Kelly in a corporate elevator. All is well with the world.