Something Out of a Bad Dream

Lauren is in town right now. That means yummy meals, often-swept floors, and free childcare. Not one to let an advantage go untaken, Nate and I went to a movie last night.

"Taken" tells the story of a naive girl (the antithesis of Shannon on "Lost") on an ill-advised trip to Paris who is kidnapped by ruthless human traffickers. Never fear; Super-Butt-Kicking-Preventer-Dad (Liam Neeson) springs out of retirement, wasting no time in eliminating the bad guys, one by one, until he shoots an arab sheik who is holding a knife to the surprised, grateful, and slightly drugged daughter's throat.

Later in the bathroom I overheard a goggle of teenage girls mystified in how a super-hot guy like the one in the movie could, or would, ever lure an unsuspecting girl into such a horrific situation.

"Of course nothing like that could happen in the idyllic US of A." (I've taken liberty with their words - if they used the word "like" it definitely wasn't as a simile.) Call it my maternal instinct (or maybe I'm just old,) but I couldn't leave without informing them that living in the US doesn't make them immune from the dangers perpetrated by evil people. I'm sure they got a good laugh out of the weird "know-it-all" lady in the bathroom who intruded on their conversation . . . yeah, I'm definitely old.

After my good deed of the evening we went to Daphne's Greek Cafe for a light meal. I should've remembered that there's no such thing at "lite" when it comes to Greek food. We had gyro plates - meaning a little bit of pita, a small cup of tzakiki sauce, and a lot of lamb - sweet, soft, beautiful little lambs. While the tasty meat is seasoned well and hits the spot I try not to think about what it's really made of. Instead, I'd rather delude myself into believing it's rabbit. Furry little broccoli-eating rodents . . . they deserve to be eaten. (More on that in a later post.)

Thanks to a very large, movie theatre-sized Diet Coke I had to make another potty run after dinner. And that's where my bad dream was realized.

Remember the night before the first day of junior high? The night where you toss and turn because of swirling dreams of bullies, hazing, and communal showers after PE? My nightmares went just a little bit further - I used to dream about open bathrooms with communal toilets. Sorry, that's probably more information than you wanted to know. But actually having the dreams isn't any more comfortable.

And neither is opening the door to a public restroom and seeing two toilets in full view. Finding one sink, two toilets, and no partitions (and no evidence of there ever having been partitions) was expected, unnerving, and definitely uncomfortable. I may have had physical privacy (after triple checking the door lock) but there was no psychological privacy.

Through giggles Nate got to hear all about the bizarre experience. It did leave me wondering . . .

Do people really pee in public groups (or duos as in this circumstance?)


Try as I might, however, I couldn't get Nate to go check out the men's restroom.

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