12 August 2012

Warren/Oaks

Basically, this is a story about peeing.

Before college, I never used the bathroom at school. Maybe there were couple of odd times that I did, but even through high school, as I remember it, I didn't use the bathroom at school. If I did, it's probably a single-digit number of times in 13 years of schooling.

I can't remember ever peeing myself or shitting my pants either. (He puts this on its own line, pridefully.)

That's effectively seven hours spent without relieving myself. Now, I chain-drink water like a madman, and I absolutely cannot imagine how I lived back then. How dehydrated was I then? Because, really, one milk or juice box at lunch was the extent of my fluid consumption during the typical school day. It was a different time, I guess. Or I was in fact a camel.

...

When I was a kid, I used to write stories in pieces of ordinary paper folded to look like books. Before and during kindergarten, these were dictated to my mother who would dutifully record these masterpieces. I would illustrate the covers and provide some artwork in whatever room remained in the interior. Among the last of these dictated stories, before I moved to writing them in  HUGE LITTLE-KID WRITING, was called Flo's Bus.

Flo's Bus was a story in which Flo, the much-beloved bus driver, accidentally started driving her route on a Saturday. Ignoring the massive problem that someone's, anyone's parent would be paying attention to this and prevent their child from getting on said bus, she managed to pick up her entire gaggle of students and proceed to school. We were all young, latchkey and naive, so no one questioned this at all.

Arriving at school, Flo noticed she was the first bus to arrive and happen to notice that the door of the school was locked. Not taking this for the sign that it was, she divined a solution. Those kids were getting into school, damn it. The kids would go in through the school's chimney.

Like most 1950s-era school buildings, my elementary school lacked a chimney. But this did not prevent our fictional selves from going down the fictional chimney and ending up covered with fictional ashes and soot.  After all, this is the universal conditional of those who maneuver through chimneys. However, this was a correctable problem because we washed our heads in the school's toilets.

Yeah, the toilets. Having never been in a school bathroom, I was under the distinct impression they did not have sinks.

To this day, I wonder what other misconceptions of the world I have on account of not using school bathrooms. But really I'm just more shocked that I didn't pee for eight fucking hours, every fucking school day.

6 comments:

  1. Maybe you were just infatuated with the concept of a swirlie.

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    Replies
    1. i've told you about the pokemon dream featuring the swirlie, right?

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    2. Yeah but it's a little hazy and I think it's about time for a retelling.

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  2. "Having never been in a school bathroom, I was under the distinct impression they did not have sinks."

    I'm wondering what made you think they were any different from regular bathrooms.

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    Replies
    1. childlike wonder and awe?

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    2. also get on gchat sometime you old bastard

      Delete