but i had 3-way curry over rice at a dive british pub ( CA not ENG) last night and it absolutely eviscerated me.
first of all, put my entire head into a sweat. awesome.
then as i'm walking down the street, about six blocks from the car, i feel the gears click into place. like heavy machinery waking from the night shift. i say to my buddy " don't talk to me, i've got a Code Brown STAT. "
i pick up the pace and about a block away it's the bataan death march. one step at a time, look at my watch, pretend i'm not really walking anywhere, just checking my iphone ( and not crapping myself) . i see the car now ; it might as well be in a different state.
but right in front of me is the public library. not quite a casino, but close. so as i limp toward my goal, i'm actually thinking " if i were an architect, where would I put the bathroom?" at this point, i feel like i've got a midget welder in my drawers. with a bad ####ing attitude.
i get to the front door and start looking around for the head. nothing. no dice. don't want to be *that guy* who just walks in and asks " excuse me, where is your restroom?" which could be the worst decision of my life. because i trundled all over the place and never found it -- until i walked through the farkin' courtyard, past the coffee stand and found it squirreled away in the back. by now, i'm pretty sure i've Pollacked my boxers.
i find a stall and patent a new aerobic exercise in dropping drawers,hitting the seat and emptying my insides.