Bathroom Story

I sat at my desk yesterday afternoon as the clock approached leaving time.  I felt an urge inside me that a person would normally feel after eating food, and then that food is digested in chemical reactions, thus creating different states of matter; mainly the focus here would be on gas.  So I decided to take my problem to the restroom on my way out of the building to pick up the kids and go home.

When I arrived at the restroom there was a man using one of the urinals, and as far as comfortability went, I wasn’t feeling any when it came to releasing my intestinal hostage and I decided that I would wait until he left, but so as to not seem awkward I decided to use the urinal.  I stood beside him and took my time as he was also taking his and my goal was to leave after him rather than race him to the finish.  Even after I was technically done I stood a while longer just faking the situation while he took his own sweet time and eventually finished.  I called it a draw and chose instead to outlast him at the sinks as we washed our hands.

You know, I always wondered how many germs actually manage to get to the private areas, and how many of those transfer to my hands while in the restroom.  Is washing hands always needed?  I say yes because I enjoy washing my hands every thirty to forty-five minutes of keyboard use as those keys spend all their time touching germy hands.  My restroom friend went to sink number three – my favorite sink since it is least likely to expel boiling lava hot water – which forced me to go to sink number one.  I moved deliberately slowly and thoroughly rinsed my hands before reaching for soap.  My restroom friend was using the same technique as I monitored him through my peripherals.

I then decided that today was the day I would follow the flu prevention flier and lather my hands for a full thirty seconds in order to take longer and outlast this man.  I noticed that my friend kept looking at me.  He was not looking directly at me, but looking at me through the mirror, as if monitoring my progress the way I monitored his.  I made sure to soap every square centimeter of my hands, reaching partway up my forearms and getting every spot between each finger.  My friend somehow was taking exactly as long as me.

As the pressure that originally sent me to the restroom was building inside of me I became frustrated and started the rinsing process.  Again I made sure to miss no single cell of skin as I rinsed off the soap.  My friend, who was quickly becoming my nemesis, continued to monitor me through the mirror and also rinsed his hands for a deliberately and wastefully long time.

My last chance was drying my hands.  I tore a paper towel off the dispenser and waited until it returned another.  Then I tore off the second and waited for a third.  After I acquired the third paper towel I started drying every inch of my hands.  I was not to be successful, though, as my nemesis was taking a fourth, and then a fifth paper towel and was sure to outlast me in the drying competition.

I gave up and left.  I walked out of the restroom and down the hallway to the stairs.  Pressure built even quicker as I participated in even the slightest bit of physical activity.  My need to find privacy was more urgent and I knew my first chance to relive the pressure with a minimum negative impact to others was when I reached my floor in the parking ramp.  I walked with a group of people to the ramp and waited for the elevator that would carry me to the 8^th floor.  I became noticeably uncomfortable and twisted on one leg while I stood.  Eventually the elevator arrived and I boarded with several others who would no doubt (and certainly did) make me stop on nearly every earlier floor and delay the release of my pain.

Finally I reached the 8^th floor as the sole occupant of the elevator.  I walked out the door and made a quick check to see if anyone was there.  Then I let it go.  It was wonderful and disgusting.  It sounded worse than the noise a cat makes throwing up into an overflowing toilet.  It even lasted a full two seconds, which, if you think about it, is actually a really long time for such an event.  And it was so, so relieving – for the first second.  Unfortunately, in my hurry I didn’t notice the sound of someone rushing up the stairs next to the elevator.  Someone was a mere 15 feet behind me when I did it.

I told myself not to turn around.  Just keep walking, keep walking until I get to my car.  I couldn’t help it; I had to know who it was.  What if I know them?  What if I see them later and they make a weird face at me?  Who is this person that now has the upper hand?  Please don’t let it be one of the women in the cubicle near mine, but don’t look back!  I turned around anyway.  It was my restroom nemesis.  Damnit.

Faces

I stood up at my desk and looked around the room while leaning back and giving my spine a stretch.  The shades were not down on the windows like usual, so it was easy to observe the overcast day outside.  It had been dropping a nearly freezing rain intermittently since the sun rose behind the layer of clouds.  I never expected much from Tuesdays, so the disappointing weather shouldn’t have fazed me, but I had an undeserved sense of what Mother Nature owed me since only a week earlier it had been so warm.

                I regained my posture and set off to the restroom.  As I walked by the end cubicle in my row I noticed Vince’s desk, while fairly clean, was actually littered with far more coffee paraphernalia than a single person could possibly use.  What application could he have for two different single serving French presses?  At least the lazy person in me could see having multiple reusable mugs, as one may not have been cleaned after the prior day’s consumption and there may be little time or motivation to clean it when you could just fall back on the second one.  But in order to use the French press you would have to take it to the break room to acquire the near boiling water necessary for its brewing powers, and the sink one would use to clean it was in the same room.  I decided not to think too much about it as I knew I could understand the inner workings of his brain no more easily than he could understand mine, and I was quite aware that no one understood my “quirks”.

                By now I was making a turn down the hallway where I would enter the restroom.  I grabbed the handle with only two fingers – I was always wary of door handles and railings, having become fearful of all public surfaces as I had gotten older and more careful not to encourage nasty viruses to destroy my immune system.  I immediately felt the urge to wash my hands, but I figured it would be best to complete the transaction first.  The door swung towards me and I released the handle to step inside.  It was a rare occurrence that I would walk into an empty restroom on this floor, but this was such an occasion.  The lighting in this room was never bright - I guessed that was intentional due to what it may illuminate – but it seemed just a tad darker today.  Perhaps it was only my mood that was darker, a reflection of the outdoors that I had cursed in the morning for being a pitiless reminder that I live in the Midwest.

                As I approached the back wall of the room I felt my body get heavier.  It was a strange sensation that seemed to indicate the Earth’s gravitational pull had increased.  I exerted myself in an attempt to move my feet in the desired direction, but the weight of my own body hindered the progression until my feet were firmly attached to the restroom floor and I stood still with the pressure of another whole body weighing down on every inch of mine.

                My vision had begun to blur, but I was still able to espy what appeared to be a thick fog emitting from the wall ahead of me.  I twisted my head with great force to see the fog pouring from the other walls as well.  It sank to the ground upon entering, but filled the room quickly until I could not see anything but it.  The smell was faint, but reminded me of stale sweat, much like a farmer at the end of a summer day’s work.  If I wasn’t already panicking, I was aware enough to begin when the light in the room began to fade.  As it fell to a near pitch black I imagined that I had been displaced to field near a pond in the early morning with the mist settling in and the sun still hours from rising.  My panic subsided as I adopted this chosen reality and felt the serenity of what nature was surely enveloping me.  Was I imagining it?

                Then suddenly, as if I had awoken from a nightmare turned dream, I was back in the restroom, facing the back wall.  There I stood for a moment, rationalizing what I had just experienced and striving to convince myself that I was only imaginative and sane.  As I did so I could hear a humming.  Maybe it wasn’t a humming, but a choppy whisper in an otherwise silent room.  I looked right and left, but it wasn’t until I turned completely around and saw the mirror that I realized the sound was coming from my own throat.  I could see myself standing in the room, my own fingers grabbing at my neck and trying so hard to breathe in that my eyes were beginning to bulge.  It felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room and my lungs were desperately attempting to bring in oxygen in the vacuum.

                I struggled to breathe in, massaging my neck as if I could coax the air down my windpipe and into my chest.  Seconds felt longer and longer as I started scratching at my neck, hoping that somehow this irrational reaction would free me from my suffocation.  My vision had now started graying, and the infamous stars of unconsciousness began to appear.  I heard a pop.  I knew instantly that my convulsions in my endeavor to breathe had caused me irreparable harm.  My throat had collapsed, snapping like a wafer being bent to the point of submission.  The weight of this knowledge dropped me to my knees and then to the floor where my cheek hit with a violent slap.  The tiles of the floor were cool on my irritated and bleeding neck.  I stared at the grout between the tiles and felt a silly, yet primal urge to again wash my hands.

                The stress that had been put on my body forced a tear from my eye.  It swelled up and began it’s decent to the floor, but before it reached its destination I could see a figure – a person – standing beside me and looking down toward my crumpled form.  As I scanned up their legs and to their face I realized they were not alone.  It was my friends.  The stared back at me as more and more of them became visible to reveal my family members, my coworkers and others.  I could see so many faces, all of them familiar, and none of them helping me.  When I reached toward the nearest figure my hand entered his leg and he disappeared into a silhouette of sparkling nothingness.  I watched as a wave rolled over them all leaving nothing behind.

                Every part of my body ached for oxygen while I wound my body on the floor.  My animal instincts had taken over as the life inside me fought to continue existing.  I closed my eyes and opened them to once again see faces.  These faces, however, were not familiar to me.  I had been transported to another field; only this one was far from serene.  As far as I could see were bodies.  Human bodies piled, twisted and broken, and I was on top of the motionless sea of death.  I thought about crying, but I could not breathe and my eyes were out of tears.  How long had I been here?  How long had it taken me to get here?  Was this the end?  I wished I could go back and see the sky.  I wished even for the overcast cold rain to fall on my face.  Why had I cursed the weather earlier when I would now gladly take ten thousand days of it?

                I blinked again and began to float above the others.  I was rising slowly to heights allowing me to see a ten, then a hundred bodies, all of their faces looking up, all of their eyes dead and dark.  All of the eyes, except two.  I could see a gleam inside them, or rather behind them, as if there was a single flame inside and the light was escaping through the pupils.  This face, out of the unknown hundreds, was familiar.  This face was my own.  I saw myself surrounded and still; alone in a mass grave.  I continued to rise above the pile and distance eventually obscured the faces of everyone, including myself.  I could no longer see features of any body.  I could only see two small dots of light growing closer and closer together.  I felt the slightest breeze.  The lights went out.

Eyes Wide Shut

Eyes Wide Shut

Many people have seen the movie Eyes Wide Shut.  Not a ton of people, but many.  And most say it was boring or terrible in some other way.  These people are missing the point.  The movie is about the globalist cult that runs the world and directs the events of the common people.  The movie’s director Stanley Kubrick was trying to out this secret society but was killed before he could release his version of the movie.  See the following suspicious points:

·         On March 7, 1999, four days after screening a final cut of Eyes Wide Shut for his family and the stars, Kubrick died “in his sleep of natural causes” at the age of 70.

·         Kubrick's wife was quoted afterward as saying, "he told me he would finally expose them, that he had created the masterpiece he was compelled to make."  While the film had a studio full of editors working with Kubrick to create his final cut, it was Warner Brothers executives who dictated the theatrically released version. 

·         Fans and theorists alike have long searched for Kubrick’s version of the film, but most efforts, including one civil lawsuit, have been rebuffed by the studio’s lawyers. 

·         The movie has been surrounded by mysterious deaths in the years since. In 2000, assistant editor John Heresy died in a single car accident late at night on a northern California highway. In 2003 Kubrick’s nephew was found hung in his father’s boat house with his feet dragging on the floor, prompting some to think it was staged. Also in 2003, Kubrick’s long time friend and schedule manager David Herschweitz went missing for four months, only to be found in a warehouse in downtown Los Angeles dead of apparent alcohol poisoning. 

·         Though some believe the most questionable death was of Kubrick’s friend Herschweitz, it was the actions of Herschweitz’s fiancée Helen Vanderfeld that raise suspicion. For nearly twelve month’s after David’s death Helen was very vocal about his dealings with Kubrick and the suspicious nature of his death. However, on November 20th, 2004, just four days short of the anniversary of David’s death, Vanderfeld secretly married Evan Johnstone, son of then Warner Brothers vice president of operations Jeremiah Johnstone. The elder Johnstone was one of the executives who submitted the final edit of the film. Helen Vandefeld Johnstone has not made a public appearance since the wedding. 

·         On July 16^th, 2009, on the 10^th anniversary of the film’s release, a man who claimed to be Erval Sanchez* snuck past security in an Anaheim radio station and into the studio.  He commandeered the DJ’s microphone and held off advances with what turned out to be a prop gun.  For nearly four minutes he tried to explain the conspiracy theories of the film Eyes Wide Shut on air before power for the entire block on the city was mysteriously lost.  By the time police had arrived Sanchez had been subdued by building security and was taken to an undisclosed Anaheim Police Department location where he died in custody.  In August 2009 electronic files in the APD were corrupted by a virus and all evidence of Sanchez’s apprehension was lost.
*An Erval Sanchez was originally listed as the actor who portrayed a servant to the high priest in the film.

CBS’s New Fall Lineup

CBS’s New Fall Lineup

*New Program

MONDAY

7:00 How I Met Your Mother

7:30 Easy Being Green*

8:00 2 Broke Girls

8:30 Mike & Molly

9:00 Hawaii Five-O

TUESDAY

7:00 NCIS

8:00 NCIS: Los Angeles

9:00 Fair is Fair*

WEDNESDAY

7:00 Survivor: Product & Pricing Town Hall*

8:00 Criminal Minds

9:00 CSI

THURSDAY

7:00 The Big Bang Theory

7:30 Two and a Half Men

8:00 Person of Interest

9:00 Twenty Thirty*

FRIDAY

7:00 CSI: NY

8:00 Far From the Tree*

9:00 Blue Bloods

SATURDAY

7:00 Saturday Night Bieber*

8:00 Reruns*

8:30 Reruns Rerun*

9:00 Captain Underpants*

SUNDAY

6:00 60 Minutes: 90 Years*

7:00 The Amazing Race

8:00 The Good Wife

9:00 The Mentalist

New Programs:

Easy Being Green

There’s doing your part for the environment, and then there’s Genevieve Lawson.  With a deep love of the Earth around her, Genevieve makes even strict environmentalists look like beginners.  She sorts her compost, drinks her own well water, and even watches her bicycle-powered TV!  The only problem is her foul-mouthed neighbor Jack who drives a gas-guzzling SUV and tosses beer cans on her lawn.  Will these fellow citizens cause mutual destruction, or is something more interesting in store?

Fair is Fair

Jack Burton is a recently promoted police detective; Samantha Remington is a brand new district attorney.  Together they bring justice to the city of Los Angeles, one perpetrator at a time.  With lighthearted banter these LA powerhouse players make righteousness look easy, but will they both stay married to their careers, or will they find love in a place they never expected?

Survivor: Product & Pricing Town Hall

“Survivor: Product & Pricing Town Hall is the most harrowing of the Survivor series!” -- Entertainment Weekly

“Even after twenty plus seasons, Survivor manages to up the stakes and increase the suspense.” – TV.com

“Will this be the first season that someone dies?  Will there be multiple deaths?  Can anyone survive the entire session??  This season promises to be the most gruesome yet!” – Time Magazine

Twenty Thirty

In 2030, life as we know it will cease to exist, extraterrestrial life will invade, and a blast from the Earth’s past will return.  Jack, Bethany and Lacey are the only known survivors in the remnants of a city that was once Los Angeles before the extinction level meteor hit Earth.  The trio struggles to find food, escape aliens and fend off dinosaurs in this blockbuster series produced by Michael Bay. 

Far From the Tree

After the death of his father, Jack Bellevue Jr., twenty-eight year old Jack “Trey” Bellevue III takes over his auto dealership in a suburb of L.A.  As Trey struggles to keep the dealership afloat and still have time for a life outside work, a parallel storyline tells the journey of twenty-eight year old Jack Jr. 35 years earlier.  See how the lives of Jack Jr. and Trey both differ and remain the same through years of trial and triumph.  Starring Gail O’Grady as Trey’s mother and Harry Connick Jr. as her brother.

Saturday Night Bieber

The fans of Justin Bieber in America have known about it for years, and now Europe is getting in on the fever!  See backstage at Justin Bieber’s live concerts as he tours Europe in his private jet.  His many stops include Norway where fans create a stampede and a national disaster area is declared, and Germany where the daughters of David Hasselhoff fans take to the streets to find tickets.

Reruns

“Reruns” is a retrospective, capturing all the greatest punch lines from the previous week’s sitcoms.  Who can forget the time that Barney from “How I Met Your Mother” said “and that’s why I’m not allowed in Kansas anymore!”  Well, you won’t forget because you are watching TV’s hottest new sitcom recap show, “Reruns.”

Reruns Rerun

For those who missed the half hour of hilarity airing just before this one, there is “Reruns Rerun”!  In an encore presentation the exact same episode that was just on is on again!

Captain Underpants

The overwhelmingly popular children’s book has now been made into a primetime television drama for adults!  Principal Benny Krupp has been hypnotized into being the title superhero, and it’s up to fourth graders Harold and George to control him.  Captain Underpants battles villains like Dr. Diaper and the Turbo Toilet 2000 in a loveable drama aimed at entertaining and educating those who watch.

60 Minutes: 90 Years

The program is still identical to what you are used to seeing on Sunday nights, but we added a second half of the title to represent how long the show seems to anyone under the age of 75.