Wednesday, November 12, 2008 :::
I went into a public restroom yesterday and I was glad to find it completely empty, except for a single worker who was changing out roles of toilet paper. I was at the urinal when from within a nearby stall I heard the janitor say:
"So how long do you think this ca-ca weather is going to last?"
I knew he was talking to me because the restroom was otherwise empty and because I had accidentally made awkward eye contact with him on the way in. I stood there for a minute debating whether I should just pretend I didn't hear him or if I should be polite and reply. After an extended silence, I replied from my urinal:
"Oh I don't know, I didn't watch the news this morning."
"Neither did I," he replied. I decided that this was a proper end to the conversation and that I had held up my end of the deal. But after another couple seconds of silence he continued:
"I meant to."
Again I didn't reply. This time the following silence was bit longer, but again, he eventually continued with a sigh:
"But it just didn't turn out that way."
But I could tell by the proximity of his voice that he was now standing directly behind me.
I wasn't getting the feeling he was coming on to me or anything like that. But I had the sneaking suspicion that his job probably didn't afford him the opportunity to have conversations with other humans on a regular basis, and that maybe he was a little socially awkward. But that realization didn't make the situation any more comfortable. Thankfully, I was done with my business so I zipped up, scooted around him, and went to wash up.
He followed me to the sinks.
"I got an interesting piece of mail the other day," he said looking at me in the mirror. "It was from some sort of secret society."
"Oh wow," I offered up, lathering my hands as quickly as possible.
"It came registered mail. They want me to join."
"That's cool," I said, drying my hands on my pants instead of taking any extra time to reach for a paper towel. I was beginning to think that perhaps he was a little mentally challenged to boot, even though you would never have suspected it from his speech or mannerisms. I quickly headed for the exit.
"They must know about my special talent," he said.
I stopped in my tracks for a spilt second, hand on the doorknob, momentarily torn between my desire to know what his special talent was and my desire to get the hell out of Dodge. I decided it was better not to know, nodded in his direction, and left the restroom. He followed me out into the store lobby.
"I'm thinking of hiring a lawyer and suing their asses," he added.
This brought up even more questions that I didn't need answers to. So I capped it off with "Oh well good luck with that!" and left the store.
When I pulled out of the parking lot he was standing outside the door, in the rain, watching me leave. If there had been ominous music playing on my car stereo, it would have been a scene right out of a bad horror movie. I could swear it even seemed to happen in slow motion. Let's hope his special talent isn't memorizing license plates.
I'm only posting this in case I disappear or turn up dead in the next couple weeks, you'll know where to start your investigation.
Thanks for listening.
::: posted by dan at 8:19 AM :: [ link ] :: (17) comments
17 previous comments:
oh my god, i'm sorry but that made me laugh a lot.
By , at 11:57 AM
You can't make stuff like that up!
By , at 1:20 PM
Crap Dan, I REALLY want to know this guy's "special talent"!
By , at 1:22 PM
Bet he had a wide stance.
By , at 2:04 PM
Maybe he knew you had Itchinitus of the penis, or that you have the need to get breast fed via male nipple every 5 hours and couldn't be denied. Maybe you should have stuck around as you normally would.
FATTY spittin out the usual garbage like the unsuccessful Ronco Fat Saturator
By , at 4:53 PM
Holy crap! That's really creepy.
By , at 5:25 PM
I'm suddenly glad that none of the janitors at my school speak English.
By pinstripebindi, at 6:02 PM
You shoulda asked me what my special talent was. I would have told you that it was the ability find anyone, anywhere at any time. Just like I found you here on the internet with your little electronic diary and funny pictures. That's why they want me in the secret society. They need my powers. After I'm done suing them, I'm coming for you...as soon as this weather is done being so ca-caie (ca-caey? ca-ca-ish? shitty!).
By , at 10:14 AM
Socially awkward situations seem to suss you out, Planet Dan. I'd consider never leaving your house and adopting several cats.
By Bob, at 1:44 PM
You find the weirdest people, you are like a weird people magnet.
By , at 10:14 PM
I bet his secret ability was predicting lotto numbers or maybe making a kick-ass baked ziti. Way to blow such a rare opportunity.
By , at 9:15 AM
By , at 10:29 AM
I'd think about getting a Coleman® Portable Camp Toilet for your office.
And maybe sleeping at a friend's place.
Eagerly awaiting another post, A
By , at 12:30 PM
hilarious....dan you really can tell a strange tale!!
By scubachic, at 6:59 AM
well, i wasn't worried that i hadn't had a response to my email until now. Should I call someone?
Dan answer Sarah.
By sarah, at 12:29 PM
OMG, You cannot do that to us. When you find yourself in these situations, you MUST find out what the 'secret' talent IS!!!
I think this is in our 'aura genes' or something, we both seem to attract this kinda thing.
Um and the 'Janitor' comment is kinda freaking me out.
By me, at 7:39 PM
I guess he didn't know the cardinal rules of male bathroom etiquette: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzO1mCAVyMw
By Ingy, at 2:36 PM
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