The Daily Dump

A place where everyone (me) is welcomed to express their opinions openly and honestly. I encourage free thinking, free wheeling, off-the-cuff banter and monetary donations.

Thursday, July 6

Montreal Vignette Numéro Deux
A Shocking Encounter


Scene: A rooftop restaurant in Old Port, Montreal. John, The Girlfriend and Scott are sitting at the table enjoying their drinks. They are thoughtful and content. I return from a trip to the bathroom with a horrified look on my face, as though I have just seen a ghost, or realized I left the refrigerator door open. Neither is the case. I approach the table quickly, as if fleeing demons.

Scott: “What? What happened?”

Me: “Unbelievable.”

The Girlfriend: “What happened? Did you clog the toilet?”

Me: “No, worse.”

(Fade into flashback, with my voice narrating memory.)

So I went down to the bathroom. You have to go down two flights of stairs and the men’s room is kind of off to the side down an alleyway. There’s no door, you kind of just walk in. So I sidle up to a urinal and go about my business. No sooner than my fly is down, I see something out of the corner of my eye, another person entering the bathroom. But something isn’t right – and that something is the fact that it’s a girl. (pointing to Scott) Your girl.

(Flash back again to 15 minutes earlier.)

Scott: “I’m in love with the girl clearing tables here, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t speak a lick of English.”

(pause)

“But I guess love is about overcoming obstacles.”

(Flash forward to me telling story at table.)

Scott: “No!”

Me: “Yes.”

John: “What the balls?”

Me: “Listen.”

(Flash back to me in bathroom, narrating story.)

She is completely unfazed that she has just walked into the men’s room and there is a man in there urinating. She starts cleaning the mirror behind me. I mean, she’s five feet away from me. She can hear everything, and there’s nothing I can do but continue peeing, trying to mitigate the noise, her right over my shoulder. I finish up and of course I’m wearing a button fly and everyone knows I have trouble with button flies. (Everyone nods head in acceptance.) So I just do one button and pull my shirt down to cover it over so I can get out of there as quickly as possible. I turn around and she’s right behind me, still cleaning the mirror. I figure I have to acknowledge her, it would be like not acknowledging a burglar in your home.

Me: “Bonjour.”

Her: (Giggles, then says something completely incomprehensible in French.)

Me: (Finishing washing hands – there are no towels, just a hand dryer. I look at the girl’s roll of paper towels for cleaning the mirror.) “May I use these?”

Her: (More unintelligible French, but friendly gesturing leads me to believe she means yes.)

Me: (finishing up) “Bonsoir.”

Her: “Bonsoir.”

(Flash forward to conversation at table.)

Scott: “So she saw you pee.”

Me: “She saw me pee.”

John: “That kind of stuff just isn’t a big deal to the French.”

The Girlfriend: “Watching people urinate?”

John: “You asked to use her paper towels?”

Scott: (sadly) “I wish it had been me . . .”

(We all share the pain of Scott’s misfortune, and sip from our glasses in clumsy unison.)

End.

8 Comments:

BI:
Scott is wearing a shirt!

BI, maybe the scour-maid followed you into the mens' room on purpose. She probably isn't supposed to clean the mens room and sneaks in now and then for her own pleasure and discernment.

By Blogger Leezer, at 12:03 PM  

Yeah, your friends are hot.

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 1:24 PM  

I was hoping she was a he... God I need help. Cali has turned my brain gay...

By Blogger Julie_Gong, at 1:30 PM  

Hahahahahaha! I love the way you told that, priceless!

By Blogger Jules, at 2:07 PM  

Priceless! I assume you got the boys safely stowed away sometime immediately following...

By Blogger babyoog, at 2:24 PM  

So at what point did you finish buttoning your pants? Or did you leave them unbuttoned on purpose to save room for cake?

By Blogger Erin Mc, at 5:09 PM  

You should have talked with her WHILE peeing. But then, she might have thought you were coming onto her.

By Blogger hanmee, at 1:30 PM  

So the girl cleaning tables is also cleaning bathrooms on the same shift? Ugh - the French (close enough) ARE disgusting!!!

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 11:15 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

<\$BlogItemBacklinkCreate\$>

<< Home