Friday, March 04, 2005
Mouthbreathing Foreign Drug Fiends
I've been invited back to the Polish club on Saturday night. I've already declined. Although I had a good time, I have more compelling reasons for choosing the alternative.
After my former roomie's performance last Saturday he was accosted as he left the bathroom. A few Poles lurking near the exit grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to face them. "Hey Mr. DJ! We DJs too, we play the music!" They grabbed his tie, tightened it, (a little too much, according to him) and finally readjusted his collar. Naturally he smiled, nodded, and scurried away as quickly as possible.
I had a distinctly weirder experience during my bathroom visit about twenty minutes later. I walked into the bathroom expecting to void my bladder in silence and comfort. Little did I know, but I was an unsuspecting participant in some deviant scheme. One mouthbreather was standing near the sinks. He began coughing, clearing his throat, and stamping his foot as soon as I entered. I noticed another fellow who appeared to be drinking from the middle urinal. I was not distressed by this unsanitary behavior. The drinker quickly hawked some loogies and spit them as loudly as possible into the urinal. He then craned his head to peek at me before shooting more gobs into the porcelain. He was obviously concerned that I might be watching him.
Contrary to my vivid descriptions, I was not. Most of the above was gleaned from auditory evidence and peripheral vision.
It was plain to me that they'd been taking turns snorting rails from the top of the wall potty. I had no desire to give them trouble, but I had to pee. They were using the middle of three urinals. So I walked past and chose the rightmost. I was enjoying a leisurely piss when a hand clamped upon my left shoulder. A face hovered within inches of my ear, breathing raggedly and speaking loudly in Polish. I mumbled incoherently, unable to speak any sense. I kept pissing.
He said something else. It was time for me to respond. "I no speak-a the Polish." I hoped that would suffice. It did not. Was he looking down at my tinkling genitals? I flexed my shoulder and craned my head. He backed up. Thankfully.
The two of them began glancing at each other, mumbling and wringing their fists. Obviously searching for the right word. Finally the snorter's eyes lit up and he pointed at me. He exclaimed "Security! Security?"
"No, no." I was finished. I shook, tucked, and zipped. They laughed uproariously and patted me on the back. I smiled and said, "Yes! The fun." I quickly rinsed my hands and returned to my table. The former roomie was still talking about the weird Polish tie straightening experience. I trumped the hell out of him.
This Saturday I will attend a birthday party instead. 7:04 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
Piwo Jasne Pelne Okocimskie
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A Glancing Blow
Rest In Peace, Doctor