Sooooooooo I dreamt I was at work. In said dream, I went to the bathroom, which was just decrepid. Like the trap room in the first Saw movie. Flickering lights, broken or missing tiles revealing crumbling walls and black mold. I'm standing in the door, thinking, "what in the Silent Hill is this bullshit?". I was expecting to see the Jigsaw Killer pedal by at any moment.
But I really had to go so in I stepped.
There were only two urinals, one of which was occupied by a short fella in a facilities uniform. He was swarthy, and seemed of Latin American extraction. Also, I could tell he was going through something because his free arm was outstretched, bracing against the wall. And his head was down, like he was reconsidering every single decision in his life. Since I'm a Bro even in my dreams, I honor the Gap Code and bypass the open urinal. Straight ahead, is an open toilet, and by open, I mean it's out in the open. Unstalled. And it appeared to be designed in some punitive, brutalist fashion. Rather than a wide, receiving bowl, it was a shallow funnel with a small hole at the center. I think the idea was that, no matter how bad one's aim, their pee would neatly drain into the hole. But it was too shallow to take into account a simple thing like splash effect. A stream arcing from the midsection of an average heighted adult male would almost certain impact the surface at near 90 degrees. Now, I got to try and Use the Force to get my emanations into this toilet's hole like it's the exhaust port on the Death Star. But it goes exactly how I expected, like a sparkly fireworks display, except liquid and only in gold. I will not be earning my marksmanship badge today.
Suddenly, I feel the facilities guy staring at me. I turn to meet nothing but hate on his face as he snarled "hijo de la gran puta." Intellectually, I only understood part of that but, instinctively, I knew exactly what he meant.
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