they're calling it "heroes."
we're calling it "zeroes."
although jcat suggested "serio's?" and i like that the best.
the juke box is silent. the tvs are muted. the lights are bright. it feels like we arrived two hours early for church basement bingo. it seems cleaner, but it would have to be cleaner. i wonder how much clorox bleach it took to scrub the hpv off the floor?
exposed brick, someone told me when i asked them how the old girl looked. i'd not been to the bar-formerly-known-as-the-pio in weeks. maybe even a month. by "exposed brick" i believe they mean "someone is trying to tear down the drywall veeeerrrrryyyy slooooowwwwwllllyyyy, one chunk at a time."
it now has a unisex bathroom. not to be trendy -- like luce or the independent in uptown. mostly just out of convenience. it is hard to tell your male customers: i'm afraid you just cannot use the bathroom until we get all the fecal matter off the sink. so they've rerouted them to our space. this eliminates the risque factor in bathroom romances. now it would be more risque if they did not occur.
"you gonna hit that?" i ask jcrew each time a man walks toward the bathroom.
"no," she says.
"you gonna hit that?" i ask her again later.
"NO!" she says.
unless i'm gassy, i like a unisex bathroom. the potential for hilarity is limitless. a calloused male hand passing you a wad of toilet paper; dualing mirror time with masculine abercrappie-anados; all the bathroom mysteries of the opposite sex revealed by an innocuous lean against a stall with a faulty lock. both stalls, i should add, have faulty locks. and i, dear readers, have just the innocuous lean.
i always wondered if he wore boxer briefs?
ah. she does have her period. that explains the zit and the angst.
whoa. how much corn did you eat last nite?
hmm. bulemia? i always took her for an anorexic.
that's not going to flush.
"i feel sorry for you girls," chuck says. "maybe you didn't know this, but men don't lift the toilet seat in bar bathrooms."
"that is bad news," i tell him. "because i always sit directly on the toilet and i never look first."
"you should probably start looking," he suggests.
"yeah. i'd hate to get pregnant," i muse.
"and if there is a line," chuck says, "some men will pee in the sink."
"who doesn't?" i wonder.