Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Sunday in Hollywood

I went to Hollywood
on Sunday 
for
shits and giggles. 

After eating at Juicy Burger
my wife, 
my friend, Shawn, 
and myself proceeded to the parking lot 
where I paid to store my car while we walked around. 
We got gas on Sunset Blvd.,
and spent 
far too much time
trying to get onto the 101 fwy 
( why the Hell they don't have turning lights at the freeway on ramps, I'll never know). 
Anyway, I got on the freeway 
and it was jammed 
bumper to bumper 
so I settled in for the long ride home 
when my stomach lurched. 
It wasn't one of those 
'could just be gas' 
moments. 
Nay, this was a full scale 
invasion of my lower intestines - 
the kind where you're pretty sure
there is some type of alien life form 
trying to evacuate through your lower extremities. 
My eyes got wide and I started to sweat. 
My friend glanced over and asked if I was all right. 
I puckered my lips, 
held my breath, 
and wheezed, "No ..."
"There's a Chevron station back 
there if you have to go," he replied 
like a man who isn't about to lose the 
trade in 
value of a new car.

I made my way to the off ramp,
cutting off a Volvo who's owner seemed 
a bit unnerved by my sudden swerving. 
Thankfully, he let me in and I was barreling along, 
doing my best not to make any sudden stops. 
By this point,
my head was drenched 
in sweat, and it was starting to get
into my eyes. 
The pain in my guts grew
to the point where 
I had to start wiggling 
for fear 
that any type
of relaxation 
would indeed
cause a rupture. 
The line of traffic was
three city blocks long 
(and not any normal city block length. 
This was the city block that
was engineered by 
the very Devil,
himself). 
Finally I pulled
into the gas station 
and shuffled my way
into the store portion, 
bypassing
several
concerned
looking
patrons 
who obviously feared
catching whatever it was
that I had. 
I made it to the bathroom
when I noticed a
coin slot. 
Now usually
you can get
a coin from
the cashier, 
but I said,
"Fuck it!
I only have
a few seconds
until I explode 
so I'll just pay
the twenty-five cents
and save myself 
the embarrassment
of 
leaking 
my 
way 
back
to the cashier." 
I fumbled through 
my pockets 
until I found 
a quarter 
among the handful of change. 
I slid the coin
into the slot,
 but it wouldn't go in. 

The slot was blocked off.

"Really, God? Really?!"
I said aloud 
as I shuffled
to the counter.
A couple of people
looked my way 
before going about
their business 
of deciding whether
 to buy
a fucking
Twinkie 
or a
Ding-Dong, 
and I nodded and 
feigned the best smile I could.

I wiped my brow
with my shirtsleeve 
and glanced around
the bulletproof glass, 
trying to find
the cashier. 
After a few, 
"Excuse me's," 
and a couple of 
"Hellos," 
the girl
finally appeared. 
Not wanting to 
draw too much 
attention
to myself, 
I smiled
and
asked
for the key.

She looked at me
suspiciously 
and handed over
a tiny key 
attached
to the end
of a 
goddamn plunger. 
I guess it was so
I wouldn't forget
to bring it back
when 
I was finished. 
I gave her a quick thank you, 
nodded, 
and wiped the sweat 
from my eyes again 
before duck walking 
to the bathroom.

Once inside, 
I wrestled my shorts off, 
tossed the plunger key 
to the ground and nearly 
cried
at the relief
to follow. 
In that moment of grace, 
I saw angels with harps. 
They gently swooned me 
with
the most beautiful music 
I have ever heard. 
A chorus of, 
"Let it go! 
LET IT GO!!" 
could be heard 
over the elevator music 
that was playing through
the speaker system outside. 
Finally 
a tear fell
from my eye 
and I smiled 
like a man
given salvation. 
I thanked
every god
that would listen. 
I said
a silent prayer
to Cthulhu 
and made for
the toilet paper.

There wasn't any.

I stared at
the empty roll 
of cardboard
to my right 
and became uneasy, 
hoping for a hidden square 
at the back 
where I couldn't see. 

No such luck.

"What the fuck 
am I 
going to do 
now?" 
I asked.

I took a gander to my left 
and
checked the bathroom
for hidden cameras. 
Not finding any, 
I proceeded
to
remove
my shorts 
and waddle
to
the
sink. 
I leaned in
with everything
I had. 
Several minutes
of hovering 
and splashing 
followed 
as I tried
to keep
my balance. 
With my hands
and ass
soaking
wet, 
I spotted
my salvation
on the wall. 
There was
a hand dryer 
fastened 
about four feet
from the floor. 
I gave the little mechanism on the front 
a quick push 
and 
reared up my ass 
as high as I could 
to get the most 
out of the warm current 
of air 
that followed. 
It took three 
activations 
of the dryer 
before I was
comfortable enough 
to shimmy back over
to my shorts 
and get dressed again. 

I returned the plunger key to the cashier, 
smiled, 

and left the fallout behind.