Thursday, October 19, 2017

The Sign Says What It Says!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


                                         This post may raise some controversy, but I cannot deny it happened.  This must have been how Lena as Valerie affected me.

                                           Last night, I had a disturbing dream.  I was at some public event--the theater, probably, and was in line for the Men's Room.  The Ladies Room, was, literally, right next to it, but there were women in the men's line, and no women in line, next door.  When I got into the bathroom, I discovered the majority of users were women, like they had taken over.  There were urinals, and I relieved myself at one.  While washing my hands, I felt, at some point, that I had to speak up, and so I did.

                                             "Why are you all here?" I asked.  "You shouldn't be."

                                                Before going on with the dream, let me say I am fine with unisex bathrooms.  I have no problem using a space having been occupied by a woman.  But what happened in the dream was my nightmarish.

                                                 When I voiced this opinon, all sound stopped.  The women, all looking like Valerie Solonas types, turned to me in an intimidating way, and asking "What did you say?"

                                                   I have to admit I was scared.  At this point in the dream, I felt like Tessie Hutchinson in Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery."  And this group began to close in, surrounding me.

                                                     I stated simply what the sign says, and that, if they need a Ladies Room, there was another one, further down.  They did say the one next door was out of service.

                                                      My statement did not go down well with them.  I began to be physically beaten by most of them, and verbally abused, by the rest.  A few lipstick types tried to stop them, saying I did have a point, but no one listened to them.  One of them had the temerity to go up to a urinal, unzip her jeans, and rub her vagina against the porcelain.  I advised her this was not a smart thing to do, because of disease; besides, when men urinate, we don't touch the porcelain. Only our urine does.  I mean, God!  Crabs!  STD's!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                     The woman in question just glared at me, and, sounding like Kathleen Turner, said, "Oh yeah?  Fuck you, motherfucker!  I can go anywhere I want.  You want me to show you my vagina?"  I screamed in terror!  Like seeing the giant clitoris in "South Park."

                                                       Meanwhile I was still being beaten and pummeled. I was crying, bleeding, and in pain.  The women kept yelling and screaming in sadistic delight.  Suddenly, dressed in blue, like the Blue Fairy in Disney's "Pinocchio," appeared this Chloe Sevigny type, who resembled a co-worker of mine I have not seen in over ten years.  The next moment, the scene changed, and she, with some of the lipstick types, were sitting within the interior of  a small, striped circus tent, trying to find a way to solve the problem.

                                                         I held my ground.  But I did say the following, which is true.

                                                          Theaters need more adequate bathroom facilities.  I mean, at Barbara Cook's concerts, or Patti LuPone in "Gypsy," the line to the Men's Room was always longer.  At the latter, one lady snidely remarked to us men in line, "Now you know what WE go through!" Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                          I mentioned this point in the circus tent conversation.  I also
mentioned both sexes' need for bladder relief, especially as one ages, and I recounted the story of being so distracted over an exam I was taking in college, that, on break, I bounded into the nearest bathroom, frustrated at not finding a urinal, not realizing where I was, not even with the pink tiled walls, until I saw the.....sanitary napkin dispenser!  Oh, my God!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                           The dream ended, almost as it had left off, with me in that original bathroom, and all those Gorgons hovering over me, menacingly.

                                                              See what Valerie Solonas did for me????????????????



4 comments:

  1. And we're always being told to Drink More Water...

    ReplyDelete
  2. My suggestion is to change whatever it is you snack on in the evenings...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Victoria,

    Ain't it the truth?
    I now have to carry a bottle
    with me, because, thanks to what I
    think are my diabetes meds, I tend to
    dehydrate. On the run, it can be
    annoying, especially on a long subway'
    ride. And I once had a dizzy spell
    because of it. So, I drink to be
    safe. But, then the bladder acts up.
    Even at my age I am still pretty good
    at holding it in.

    ReplyDelete

  4. Puffalump,

    That is not a bad idea.
    I will switch to something
    less carb oriented, like fruit, and
    see what happens. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete