The Haj

Lately I seem to be helping a lot of old men go to the bathroom.

It's unintentional, but apparently I seem to give off the "I understand 21st century toilet and hand washing technology" vibe.

I've started to think of myself as some kind of Mecca for men 75 and over.

The first time a man made pilgrimage to me, I was surprised, but still did my utmost to help him.

"Here, place your hands here, and then the water comes out"
"Thank You"

But then more came...

"Here, and when you walk away from the urinal, the toilet flushes on it's own."
"Thank You"

And still more...

"Here, and when you put your hands near this, air comes out and dries them. You're going to have to rub them together a little too...yup, just like that."
"I miss paper towels"
"...you're welcome"

Now when I have to pee, there are no surprises;
I have accepted my role as the bathroom guru.
I help men on their journey,
and if you'll excuse me,

there are toilets that need flushing...

Thank God

My train was stuck, but thank god there was a passenger on-board who could tell everyone it would take three hours before we got moving.

Thank God it only took an hour.
Thank God he was sitting so close to me, otherwise I might not have been so lucky as to hear him spout off "fact" after "fact."

Thank God I had a book to read.

The Police

I was walking down the street when I passed a cop car with two female officers sitting inside...and I thought "that's cute."
Then I wondered what would happen if there was a real emergency?

Was the man-cop sleeping in the backseat?