I just walked into the bathroom here at work. Keep in mind that I work in the engineering department at a research 1 university - there are very few women around...ever. The bathroom on our floor is NEVER full. I always feel like I have a whole 4-stalled bathroom of my very own. (Makes emergency pooping at work less stressful than it can be, but that's a different post all its own.) Also, there are a number of female students around, but they are pretty much the stereotypical nerdy ladies - not much make-up, hairspray, or perfume about them.
Anyway, I walked into the bathroom at about 4:40 and swore I had somehow opened a door from my workplace to my old high school. The fog of Aqua Net hung thick in the air. There were 6 young ladies all trying to fit their profiles and side views into two over-the-sink mirrors as they poked themselves in the eye with mascara brushes and eyeliner pencils. I nearly squished 3 other ladies to death as I swung the door open, as they stood in front of the full length mirror directly behind the door. There was a lot of squealing and rustling about to make room for the bear that intruded upon their beauty regiments. I had to climb over what seemed like hundreds of purses, handbags, and what almost looked like carry-on luggage. I actually got hit on the glasses (lucky my eyesight is bad or it would have been in the eye) by a squirt of perfume that smelled like grape Slurpee, the inside of a fashion magazine, and faintly like the ginger beer EssBee just posted about. The only thing missing was big-ol' Chicana bumps (what we called the big bangs on girls during my high school heydays) and cigarette smoke.
Now, I have nothing against girly girls, but while emptying my bladder I considered what effect a few big, stinky ones might have on the activities happening all around me. Alas, I didn't have any flatulence to share.
1 comment:
Eeeeeeseeeee, my hair hurts, bro. How's my highliner?
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