Potty humor

I think most of my regular readers (wait, don't you have to be a regular writer to have regular readers? dang) already know this, but here's my big news: I'm moving back to Harlem in early August! I have a place to live, but I don't yet have a job. That's just a minor detail, however. (If I'm still unemployed in, say, December or January, that detail would be a little less minor, but right now I'm not too worried. Who wouldn't want to hire me?)

In honor of my impending return, here's a "lost" New York blog post. I call it that because, well, until recently the notes I took for this post were lost.

As I've written before, the little room I worked in at Columbia often became unbearably hot, which led to me drinking a lot of water, which led to frequent trips to the bathroom. The nearest lavatory was down the hallway from my little office, at the back of a group study area. Three or four visits a day over six months allowed ample opportunities for me to observe some unusual behavior from some strange people.

There was one guy who I saw in there all the time who looked like a younger version of my Uncle Lewis--tall, with a big beard. We either had identical urinary cycles, or he went A LOT, because he was in there when I came in almost every time.

Another guy I saw on a regular basis had a strange, Lady MacBethian hand washing routine, but that's better than the dozens I witnessed leave the room without washing at all. Some did much more than wash their hands. I saw a few people shaving in the bathroom, and several brushing their teeth. Once a guy went into a stall and, um, started multitasking while brushing his teeth. Your schedule is probably a little too tight if you don't have time to do those things separately.

In my notes, I've written "Sly Stallone" with no explanation. I must have seen a guy who looked like him. Or maybe I saw someone injecting steroids so they could continue going to the bathroom long after they should've retired.

The study area, and by extension the bathroom, was often crowded with international students who reminded me of Eric from Head of the Class. I'm glad to see that hairstyle is being kept alive somewhere in the world. Alas, the library didn't feature nearly the same number of Simones.

I realize that most if not all of these examples of strange bathroom folk probably fall into the "you had to be there" category. So to reward you for your patience, in my next post I'll get into a much more interesting bathroom topic--the graffiti I found in the stalls. Check back soon.