Scene and heard

The last time I went to the Duane Reed by Bay Ridge Avenue Station, I thought myself silly for walking from one end of the platform at Rector Street Station, where I start my commute home, to the other, as this brings me out 3 blocks from my chosen destination. I noted that if I walked a third of the way down, I could exit a mere one block away, at 68th Street. So today I did just that. I will never do so again. It seems that this exit is more frequently used as a urinal. Entirely disgusting! And as I walked up those stairs, I determined that I would take off my shoes outside my front door and disinfect the soles before even putting them on my floor. I used to be blissful in my lack of pondering on and contemplation of such disgustingness. Until, that is, I encountered a nameless person who has OCD and will undoubtedly call me and accuse me of the same affliction upon reading this. As I walked in, I thought of all the times I have stood in front of office urinals. Men who swear that they can miss a toilet seat (while undoubtedly recognising that no other man has this skill), frequently miss this easy target. And I step in the evidence of their futility. Thank you, o nameless one!

I am reminded of a usually misquoted, classic toilet sign: "We aim to please. You aim too, please!"

And being me, a previously archived, amusing memory popped into my head: I was working for Pershing in the mid 90’s, when they put ‘targets’ in the urinals. These had rings with numbers on. I joked that we ought to hold tournaments with accuracy and distance competitions. One of the senior managers was mightily amused by this and we became friendly after that. So wouldn’t you know that a few months after I left that company after a 7 ½ year stay, he took over as Director of IT! Had I stayed, perhaps my career there would have moved out of neutral!