I started to write another post about a movie (alas, not cheesy), but did not finish it, so I will attempt something off the cuff for Non-Sequitur Thursday. Full disclosure: if hearing about going to the bathroom may cause you to shout, “TMI!” stop reading now (and none of you wiseasses need to comment, “TMI,” either)(you know who you are)(and why is my computer telling me “wiseasses” is misspelled?).
We went to the laundromat today. One good thing about the Colonial Laundromat in Ilion, NY is that there is a clean restroom available. This is a thing I look for just about everywhere I go. Just saying.
The door was closed. And remained closed. I really could not wait much longer. I walked over and asked two ladies folding their clothes if anybody was in there. No, they said. I tried the door. Locked. They felt bad for having misinformed me. I went back over to where Steven was and watched the door.
Oh dear, it was taking a while. Not to be indelicate, but nobody really wants to use a bathroom where somebody else has just been in there for a long time. Just saying.
Our clothes still had nine minutes in the drier (actually, they ended up having a lot longer than that, but this isn’t really a post about laundry).
“I’m walking to Citgo,” I announced.
What a lot of traffic Ilion gets. I guess it’s the hip, happening place to be on a Thursday night. I had to cross the street twice at the intersection. Tricky, but I managed it. After crossing one way I considered staying on that side of the street and going to Stewart’s, but I couldn’t remember if they have a restroom. I was able to make the second cross while I was still thinking about it.
After walking to first one then another corner of the store, I saw the sign for “Restroom” in the third corner. Of course it was locked. I stood there, having to pee. I considered knocking on the door to see if someone was in there. I wondered if you were supposed to get a key from the cashier. There was no sign to say so. Some of your better convenience stores have that little thing on the lock that says “Vacant” or “Occupied,” depending. No offense, Citgo.
I got tired of waiting. Cross the street to Stewarts? Wait, there’s McDonalds! Before there were convenience stores everywhere, McDonald’s was the operative place to go to the bathroom when on a road trip. Then you bought french fries or a coffee or something. What you might call a win/win. I would use their bathroom and buy Steven a coffee.
“I haven’t been in here since you remodeled,” I said to the cashier as I purchased the coffee. “It’s fancy.”
“You think so?” she sounded skeptical. Nice customer service, trying to make me feel foolish (oh, I know, it’s not that hard to do)!
I made it back to the laundromat before our drier buzzed. Steven appreciated the coffee. I felt better about everything.