My penis is not afraid of the dark.
Its a revaluation that just occurred to me.
We are having a power outage in Redondo Beach.
I went to the bathroom for my morning constitutional with a flashlight.
After dropping trou, I sat and waited.
My bowels are not hard chargers in the wee hours of the morning.
Think of it like a freight train of waste, slow to start, awesome in its power at full speed.
I am not trying to be gross here, I am trying to “frame the picture” as is were.
So, after sitting in the dark waiting patiently for my morning BM to begin, I realize that I am pointing the flashlight at my crotch.
In my head is the reflex that, if I cannot see, I might shit on the walls.
I can’t help but think that my penis feels like “Don’t worry about the light, I got this.”
My bowels, however, seem to like a little light.
I refuse to point the light at my ass, so I compromise by leaving the flashlight on the sink with the beam shining nearby.
Once that is done, its time to shower.
I discovered something interesting in shower.
I can scurry around like a sure footed gymnast in total darkness.
But when I get wet, I lose all sense of balance.
It was after I had almost tore the shower curtain out the second time that I had to turn the flashlight on again.
Once I had a little feeble light to work with, my balance returned.
I realize now that saving the flashlight batteries just in case the power outage goes on for weeks is silly.
If this goes on for more than half a day, the flashlight batteries are the least of my worries.
Because by then, my milk is in danger of going bad.
What will I put in my coffee then?
Plus, football is on at 10am and I am having a monster fantasy football season.
It is only the second game of the season and I can firmly see my place in the fantasy bowl, my team is epic.
My body, however, has other ideas.
My bowels have taken a shine to the idea of shitting in the dark.
Either that or the odd combination of things in my breakfast omelet have all come together to give what I like to call “Bacon thru a goose” syndrome.
Thank God for the Amazon Kindle, at least I have something to read.
So I came to Starbucks to finish my blog since I still have no electricity at the house.
And walked into the middle of an interesting little situation.
There is a gentleman having a net meeting on his laptop.
In Armenian. (I am fairly sure.)
And the local crowd at the surrounding tables are just about done.
I had just booted up when the guy at the table next to me shouted at him.
And the room came to a stand still.
The Armenian guy opened his mouth to say something.
And thats when a guy on the other side of him yelled at him.
“TURN IT FUCKING DOWN!”
Actually he said “FOOKING” which may be an accent or serious speech impediment.
Take your pick, but it took an already tense situation and cranked it up into the rafters.
The sort of manager was saying nothing.
Starbucks as a corporation has this really passive management philosophy that they should hide behind the counter like a battered wife and only get involved when its time to give a statement to the police.
So the stuff that could have been nipped in the bud, but never is.
So the question is, when is the bud going to be nipped?
Moot point, the bud is leaving.
The Armenian is packing up and leaving.
And every movement is a masters study in being a pissy little girl.
And yet, if he would have turned it down, none of it needed to happen.
The second he walked out the door, every ass in the room generally unclenched.
I can’t help but think that Starbucks might be behind my power outage, it knew that I was putting together a blog and it had something to show me.
So thank you for that.