Tales from the Urinal - The Interrogation

Chaz’s viewpoint - It was a nice evening and we had been out visiting new bars. “We” consisting of Chris, Shaun, and I. As we worked our way around the metro area, we came across the “Hurry on Inn”. Remembering my experience with our first visit to the “Hurry on Inn”, I wanted to share the experience with Shaun and Chris, so we stopped.

This time the “Hurry on Inn” was dead, at least the patrons looked as if they should have been dead. There was the bartender and 3 gentlemen at one end of the bar. Of course, all conversation stopped as we walked in and they stared at us like were where aliens from another planet. Of course, we probably were alien, at least in this environment. I mean we did have all of our own teeth, plus we were wearing those new fangled shirts that buttoned up the front and it wasn’t even Sunday.

Now these gentlemen were the type you would expect at a local neighborhood bar. They were on the downhill side of life, a bit dusty, and smoking non filtered cigarettes that caused a wet hacking cough every few puffs. The bartender was a just female version of the men, except she had a bit of class, i.e. she smoked filters.

We sat down at middle of the bar and looked at the bartender and men. They looked back. No one spoke. It was like the world championship stare off’s. Who would break first, us or them? Us or Them? It was us. Well, actually me. In my defense, this was toward the end of a night of drinking. The bladder just couldn’t take it any longer, so I broke eye contact and told Chris/Shaun to order me a draft while I went to the bathroom. Having won the stare off and shown us who was the boss, the bartender came down and asked, ever so eloquently, “Whatcha want?”

I paused long enough to look over the variety of choices. It was a dilemma. What should I order as the options were staggering? There was BOTH Bud and Miller Lite. I took the coward’s way out. I told Chris to order me what ever he was having. As I walked bathroom, I thought about how clever I as to avoid making such a difficult decision. I mean really, how could one chose from such delicious brews?

As I opened the bathroom door, my smugness went away. Actually, it ran a way whimpering. Cramped would be an understatement to the size of the bathroom. I squeezed in and went to the urinal. Now the urinal was pretty unique. It was a trough type with continuous running water. While that is commonplace, it was the size that wasn’t. The urinal as about 2 feet long, which was good enough for one person, but two people would make it real right. Well, when you have to go, you have to go, so I began.

To my surprise, the door opens and in comes one of the men from the bar. Now, I expected him to go into the stall due to the space issues. Nope, that was my first mistake. Actually, that was my second mistake. My first one was to have located my self at the end of the urinal furthest from the door. This allowed the bar patron to block me in as he joined me at the urinal. Now that he had me cornered so to speak, the Interrogation began…BP is bar patron, Me is myself of course.

BP: “So where you from?”
Me, a bit startled, but trying to be polite: “Over by Westland”
BP: “Why didya come in here?”
Me, still trying to be polite: “Oh, we were driving by and thought we would see what it’s like.”
BP: “This a good bar. I been coming here since I got home from The War.”

(I meant to ask if he meant the Civil or revolutionary, but figured he might have a stroke, so didn’t)

BP: “Yep, I got home and wanted a drink, so my momma brought me here. I like it. It’s a good place. Momma always said it was good place and she was right. Never had any trouble here. Now next door. That’s at rough place. Momma always told me it was and it really is. Why I went in there once and a fight broke out. Never went back, but momma sure was right. That’s a rough place.

BP stopped for moment to catch his breath. I think he was also looking for his oxygen bottle, but he could have been looking for his friendly pink elephants. I am pretty sure that he saw and conversed with them a lot. The Interrogation began again.

BP: Whatcha’s name?
Me (no longer polite): Dave.
BP: Ya married?
Me: No
BP: Ya go to school ‘round here?
Me: No
BP: Well, school here is okay, though I only went to the 10th, then I went to “The War”. Kids nowadays just don’t larn nothing. Lazy is what they are. School’in was important when I was a boy. Now, they hang out on the corner. Sassin’ people as they walk by. Its not right. Someone should tan their hide.”

Now, I was done and had been for a minute or so. I had shaked, tucked, and zipped back up, but I was stuck. The old man was literally blocking the door. I could have been a jerk and pushed the guy out of the way, but he would have broken a hip and made me feel bad, so I stayed.

BP: “I wus taught to respect my elders. My momma wuld a whupped me, had I not. Momma always said respect the old folks. I do too. I respect them as they didn’t always have it good. I always had work, so it was hardship. Momma was always right. Momma said this wus a good bar.”

By this time, I realized I was trapped by Warrendale’s version of Forrest Gump. Momma always said “life was like a box of chocolate. Sometimes you got the cherry and sometimes you got the nut in the bathroom.” I decided to take action.

Me: “Uhh, excuse me.”
BP: “ Huh”
Me (pointing to my zipper): “Umm, I am done. Can I get by to wash my hands?”
BP: “Oh sure”

So BP opens the door to the hallway and walks out. I think that I am rid of him. Sometimes I think too much. He stands there, holding the door open, and begins to question me while I wash my hands.

BP: “Ya going to stick around fur a while?”
Me: “ Don’t know”
BP: “ Wull, ya shuld as this is a good bar. Momma says so and its true.
Me: “Thanks, I will remember that”
BP: “Yep, a good bar. Next door isn’t a good bar.”

I squeeze by him, walk rapidly back to the bar, and sit down. Shaun asks me what happened as the old man is just standing there grinning at me. I begin to relate my tale and as I get to the end, I realize that the funniest/weirdest thing is the old man never went to the bathroom. He didn’t even pretend to. He just stood there gathering information.

Take this as a lesson. Learn from my mistake. When you are in a small dank bathroom, remember positioning is everything. If you don’t plan ahead, you too can be trapped and interrogated by an old man.