This post was first published in June 2010 but is getting new life thanks to reFresh Friday.
Title of Play: Why People Don’t Hang Out With Us Anymore
Scene 1: O’Charley’s Lobby
We’re waiting to be seated for Father’s Day dinner with Chris’ dad. An old man with a very tight shirt tucked in to very tight shorts and suspenders enters. We giggle at him and then are seated.
Scene 2: The Table
As we’re finishing dinner, I notice my daughter has pooped. And by “notice” I mean see it smeared all over the highchair she is sitting in. I immediately freak out. I grab some napkins and in one fluid motion Chris picks Elliott up, I cover her in napkins, and he runs off to the men’s bathroom. I spend thirty seconds wiping poop off the highchair hoping no one is throwing up their dinner because of us and then follow them.
Scene 3: The Men’s Bathroom
I knock on the door and no one else is in there so I go in. Chris, Elliott, and I are locked in the only stall with Elliott spread-eagle on the changing table while I try to clean up her poop-plosion. The cute white shorts she was wearing were a casualty and had to be tossed. We get everything under control as someone (a man, obviously) comes into the bathroom. Elliott takes this opportunity to start saying “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy…” and since I can’t talk I whisper to Chris to make her stop yelling my name. Which backfires because it’s a well-known fact that when it is really important not to laugh, you will find the most things to laugh at. So Chris is trying to talk to Elliott, trying to stop laughing, and trying to whisper in my ear to tell me about the world’s longest pee-er next to us. But his whispering in my ear turns into nothing but hot breath and “huu huu huu huu” because he can’t get it together.
So now Elliott’s all cleaned up and we’re just waiting for Austin Powers to leave so I can sneak out of the men’s bathroom. Well, no sooner does that guy leave then the white Steve Urkle from the lobby come in. He pees and then proceeds to wash his hands (good boy!) and use fifteen paper towels to dry them. Ooh, and O’Charley’s has the paper towel dispenser where you put your hand in front of it and it gives you one towel then it resets and then you can get another one. So drying his hands took about three minutes.
He finally leaves and we dash out of the stall. I’m heading for the women’s restroom so I can wash my hands and Chris is taking Elliott back to the table. As I hurry out the door, the old man turns around and we make eye contact just as I’m in the men’s bathroom doorway. I freeze because I know he thinks I just watched him pee and then I dash to the other bathroom. I take my time washing my hands and when I leave the guy is gone. I know he thinks I’m a perv. And if we weren’t in Greenfield, that title might have bothered me.