How you know it's a party

June 13, 2012

The best stories always provoke deep thought, reflection, a better understanding of others, laughter, and unexpected endings.  I, of course, attempt to portray this in the chronicles... this is one of those times.

While in the Detroit airport, I finished a meal at the Detroit 500 club restaurant (sounds a lot fancier than it is) which sports a racing theme. It didn't take long for me to realize why as the food raced straight through my colon and was squealing tires at the finish line. 

As I made my way into the men's restroom, I noticed it was a popular place. Probably because it was the closest one to that horrible restaurant. All stalls were occupied. I then noticed a blind man, cane and all, standing in the middle of the restroom. By middle I mean 5 urinals (all occupied) 2 feet on one side of him and 3 stalls (all occupied) on the other side of him. He was alone and waiting for a stall to come open. 

A stall came open at the same time a urinal was flushed. He turned slightly one way and then the other. I could tell there was too much commotion for him to know whether a stall door had opened. At this point, I stepped forward and said, “This one just opened up for you buddy.”

 He quickly thanked me and stepped into the stall, and shortly after, I stepped into the next one available. As I sat there doing my business, I kept thinking about how difficult that guy had it. I’m sure many of us have thought about how tough it would be to be blind, but I never considered the public restroom scenario. Especially alone. 

He would have to reach out and touch around the edges to know what was on each side. If he chose to use a urinal, he would have to touch it somewhere to ensure he was lined up. Not only does he have to touch everything, but he would most likely accidently touch other men while they have their units in their hands (and so you ladies know, we do not speak to men we don’t know while urinating, let alone brush their backs with our hands as we walk by). 

And think about how much better this individual’s sense of smell probably is… Not the place I would want that gift. 

How about when he does make it into a stall? I have sat, dropped a deuce, and then realized there wasn’t any toilet paper there… and I have the ability to look first. He has to physically find it each time before letting loose or find himself in a very difficult situation. Then, of course, we all have heard the joke: How does a blind man know when he is done wiping? 

All of this ran through my head, and I’m feeling deep sympathy for this man. I reach over to grab some toilet paper, look up, and see the following statement written on the wall, “It’s not a party until I cum.” Awesome.