The Wet Spot

Dear Shawn,

Hello from Big D- Dallas, Texas. Things are quite different since I lived here in the mid-eighties. I’m actually just in the airport enjoying a three hour sit between my flight from San Francisco and the next one to Houston. Knowing about the BBQ place, I knew the minute I found out about this sit, that I’d be having a BBQ baked potato. First up, however, was a visit to the men’s room.

So I’m at a urinal doing my thing when a man walks past me and I hear a thud. I thought he’d dropped his bag and the handle had hit the floor just behind me. He began to break that rule in the Man Handbook about talking to a stranger who is doing his thing at a urinal. It was a bit shocking at first, but I assumed he was about to apologize for the loud bang. He stammered a bit to inform me that he’d dropped his phone. I thought perhaps it was just lying near my foot and he wanted to make sure I knew he was going to grab it before doing so. These are things you might read about in the newspaper, especially if one of us were an elected official. Nothing more shocking than an unexpected touch at the men’s room urinals! But he just stood there.

I looked down to see that not only was his phone practically touching my right foot, but it was smack-dab in between the right and left foot. He obviously didn’t want to reach for it there, so I asked if he could give me just a minute. Now he’s standing there waiting for me to finish up. And with a stranger’s phone between my feet, I made extra sure not to splash on it.

When I was done, I stepped aside. The man reached down for his phone with an air of shame unlike any I’ve seen in a long, long time. He walked silently away and went straight to the sink to began pumping out about ten squirts of soap. I’m not sure if his phone was water resistant, and I really don’t think it mattered at that point. Where his phone had fallen was the very spot numerous men before me had missed. It was that bad.

I washed my hands and walked out of the restroom before I started to laugh. The BBQ place was just next door, and as I rounded the corner, the cashier stood there looking back at me with a blank stare. Not even the wide smile on my face coaxed her into a smile. If she only knew what I found so funny!

And this, my friend, is why I never take my phone out of my pocket when I’m in the men’s room. That can wait. Were it me, I may have just walked out of the men’s room, leaving that phone in the wet spot of shame right where it fell. See ya!