Today I consumed a record 5 cups of coffee before I left for work. The commuter rail wasn't so bad, until we pulled away from the Malden T stop. Then I had to pee. Badly.
I was afraid I was actually going to piss myself. Nothing puts a cramper on your day like walking around with moist underpants from letting a little urine flow. Trust me, I know.
So, thankfully, we arrive at North Station, and I book it to the bathroom. I'm pretty sure I pushed a few nuns and children onto the tracks, but in my haste I couldn't stop and see lest I let a little golden shower out.
I made it to the urinal, and let loose. It was one of those pees that feel better than sex. Honestly, I was a bit winded and I swooned at the urinal after I was done.
The man next to me I noticed finishing up, then he reached up and did a heavy grab onto the urinal flush bar. It was a very full, manly handshake to the flush.
I didn't think anything of it, because I was too busy zippering up. I turned around, and went to wash my hands, but stood aghast. Every one of the sinks was overflowing because they were clogged, and people were furiously pumping the handsoap dispensers to no avail. Not even the trace scents of soap were inside these empty and dry dispensers.
I decided to forgo the hand washing and whipped out my trusty purell bottle. I always carry some. I ride the damn T! If I didn't have purell with me, I'm pretty sure I would have caught malaria, syphilis, dysentery, E. bola, and a whole host of "social" diseases.
I noticed that the man who was having a moment with the flush bar look at the sinks, then just walk out. He was standing by the bathroom when I came out, and for some reason I had a stroke of kindness.
"Would you like some Purell?" I asked.
The man looked at me as if I asked if he would like me to spray him down with whale piss then follow it up with powdered chicken shit.
"What? No, I don't think so" he said.
Right. Because my offering you hand sanitizer is gross. Never mind the fact that you were just touching your crusty, gonorrhea infested crotch, then the chlamydia infected flush bar, and then didn't wash your hands because the sinks were too gross for you. You nasty bastard.
Ten bucks says he's on his way to work at some Sysco or Aramark food service, tossing salad with his hands, or slicing deli meat for the lunch rush. Come to think of it he did look like the guy who makes my sandwiches at the B.I. Great.
Commuting is fun!