Sunday, October 19, 2008

It's not a downward spiral - it's a straight drop

I heard it on the speakers at some bar. I'm not sure where or when or how drunk I was when it happened. All I know is that it hit me like a ray of sunshine radiated from the golden face of god. It was at that moment everything made sense. Everything fit. Every synapse my brain was firing off in chemically induced disarray aligned for a mere second of total suspended clarity.

"All the girls in the line for the bathroom."

I was, indeed, in the line for the bathroom. I looked over to my left and low and behold, there were *girls* in the line for the bathroom. I understood. They understood. This careful ballet of saturday night lunacy fluttered in perfect harmony as these words shot across the bar's soundscape. Some people were actually singing along. They must have heard it before. To my surprise, a human being must have decided to play this song more than once. Then I thought: Well, this could be happening at every bar, club, and after hours burger joint in the country right now.

"All the girls in the line for the bathroom."

I pondered this sonic epiphany for only a few more mouse heart beats. I moved on to the larger ramifications of the statement. There are, of course, girls in the line for the bathroom. Being in line myself, I questioned silently why my gender wasn't included in this tribal shout but quickly bored myself with the semantics. More importantly, what does this song mean? What can it tell me about myself? What can it tell me about the world I...we...live in? I was able to deduce several things, as I was still in line for the bathroom and it really wasn't moving as fast as I'd liked it to be.

1. We are, collectively, all waiting for something to happen in our lives. If this rat race of a world is summed up in a single metropolitan dance club, most of us are really just standing in line for the bathroom.

2. A bathroom is relief. Escape. Not only for its obvious biological purposes, but its an oasis among the chaos. It's quieter. You've suddenly gone from a crowd to by yourself in a stall, or at least shoulder to shoulder with strangers who share your predicament. We all know women go in there to talk about the more pressing matters of the day. Point is, it takes you away.

"All the girls in the line for the bathroom."

Unbelievable. My faith in humanity had utterly been shaken to its rocky foundations. This was something I honestly didn't expect when I excused myself from idle bar talk to relieve myself. Still standing in line, I was amazed at what new world had opened up to me in merely a few seconds. My spirit escaped itself, no longer trapped by the confines of a line, society, or the entire human race. I floated, disconnected from the selfish plights of bar going twenty-somethigs, outside of myself and above the madness.My glowing essence finally came to rest by the DJ, the fixture responsible for bringing this delightful nirvana to my being. My amorphis ectoplasmic hands formed two giant hammers, akin to that of Thor's. They solidified into stone as I became a force of pure strength and universal determination.

THEN I SMASHED THE FUCK OUT OF THE DJ, HIS FUCKING COMPUTER, HIS FUCKING TURNTABLES, AND HIS FUCKING IRONIC SPARKLING HAT AND I SCREAMED THAT IF ANYONE EVER PLAY THE GOD DAMN FUCKING POP BULLSHIT BATHROOM SONG ONE MORE FUCKING TIME I'M GOING TO PERFORM DEEDS SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN THE HOLOCAUST AND TYPICAL FUCKING SUNDAY DINNER AT JEFFERY DAHMER'S HOUSE YOUR IGNORANT FUCKING GARBAGE SUCKING ZOMBIE EXCUSES FOR MUSIC MAKERS. I HOPE EVERYTHING YOU EVER LOVE DIES IN AN UNINSURED ELECTRICAL FIRE.

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