I entered the public restroom and noticed the stall next to the urinal was occupied. Two shiny black leather shoes poked out from a pair of khakis that seemed to be, in their crumpled form, a comfort to his ankles. I liken the image and feel to leg warmers on fashionable young gals of the 80s, and thick wool socks in the snow.
The impetus for this post, however, has less to do with my love for Footloose, and more to do with the Blackberry cell phone that rested on the cold tile floor between his legs.
That’s right. Betwixt the comforting confluence of layered pant-leg, atop the urine-deluged floor, there laid the cell-phone of a squatting neanderthal.
I wondered what sort of call this man was expecting; if his wife was pregnant and due any moment, or if he was anticipating an extremely (and I mean extremely) important sales call. Or perhaps he was waiting for an explicit text message from his girlfriend.
Regardless of the reasons for, I say it’s pretty darn disgusting. Even if this man had some bizarre intimate relationship with his Blackberry, it boggles my mind to think he had the option of placing the phone on his lap. Then again, up there, there’s a chance of it falling into the pot. That may be worse than the pee puddles on the tile.
In the end, I suppose it’s his decision. His phone. His hand, face, ear and so on then married to the putridity of the public restroom floor. I can live with that. I’ll just turn away and write about it. Oh, and leave you with a kick-ass clip from the aforementioned movie (Bonnie Tyler rocks your world starting at 1:49):