who would do that?


out of orderThis is from the Seattle days….

I went to meet a girlfriend. Her name is Laurie. And she jets all over the world for just about free because she works for an airline. [Do not ask how annoying it is to pay four hundred dollars for a ticket a friend of yours gets for seventy-five dollars.] But she comes back to Seattle and holds interventions to get me out of this small room where I spend time with a hostile computer and drags me out into the world. Which is when we go to Pesos.

Pesos is Laurie’s favorite place. It is a little Mexican restaurant/bar at the bottom of Queen Anne Hill. And nobody who works there is even Mexican at all which is strange to me but the bartenders are nice and cute and the drinks are good and there are steak tacos for two bucks. We go to Pesos a lot. We were going to Pesos before I even moved here. The bartenders know my name and say hello.

I was meeting Laurie and a couple friends. And I should have known it was a sign from God when a plastic hose in the toilet tank at home came loose and lured me into opening the toilet lid to find out why the toilet tank was leaking water from the top instead of the bottom when bottoms leak and tops do not leak and it was not overflowing. The toilet immediately sprayed me and the entire room with water. And at that moment I should have known. But I was not thinking, Oh this is one of those messages from God moments that means be careful of bathrooms. I was thinking, Oh fuck me I have to shower and get dressed over again and I am going to be REALLY late. So I dashed all over getting together for the world and trotted to Pesos without a bit of foreboding.

And we were there and everyone was chatting and having a good time when I had a feminine emergency moment. Which you do not bring up, you just look for a gracious moment to exit the conversation that does not look like you are cutting someone off dead [and this can be tricky because you just do want to cut people off dead and run] and walk at a gallop for a bathroom hoping your pants will survive.

Which I did. At a gallop. And slammed into the bathroom, lunged for the first stall, and it was okay. I made it. I could wear these pants again.

[If you are a guy and do not know what I am talking about and cannot figure it out I am trying to be delicate here and you are out of luck and explanations.]

Anyway. There I am. Breathing relief. Truth, justice, and the American way have prevailed. And so have my pants.

And then I notice the toilet.

The toilet is wrong.

And the sounds.

The sounds are wrong.

No one was in here when I made the save the pants dash. But they are now.

There are certain laws of the universe. One is, women pee sitting down. Another is, this law of physics dictates how that sounds.

And I know, standing there, listening to the wrong sound —


I stand there a while.

Staring at the wrong toilet.

Listening to wrong sound.

Waiting for the guy to leave.

He has to leave, right?

Only apparently this guy who was nowhere in sight when I got here in the first place to even clue me in I was walking [okay galloping] into THE WRONG BATHROOM was I guess drinking fifty thousand gallons of beer to insure he would be here right now —

For a long time.

But he does finish. Finally. Whew! Saved! Only —

Just when he leaves, two more guys show up.

And I guess every guy in Pesos that night was drinking fifty thousand gallons of beer just to be sure he could be here now because each time one guy leaves two more show up like some crazed version of the magician’s apprentice and basically it is turning into a convention in here and —

Sooner or later someone at my table will notice I have been gone too long. And come looking. Or someone will notice the feet under the door are too small and, um, in four inch heels. And then there is last call. . . .

I had to get out.

So. I did the man thing. I stomped out and tried not to look at “the other guy’s” penis. [Do not look startled girls know about mens’ room etiquette it is a running joke at quilting bees.] And I am not even going to tell you the expression on mens’ faces when a woman walks out of a stall.

I have been going to Pesos for years. I should know where the bathroom is.

But here is the thing.


I am not kidding. They did. They changed plumbing, changed signs on doors, and presto. New mens’ room. New womens’ room. Okay, those bathrooms are side by side. There is a difference of maybe four feet of wall space between them. Who in their right mind would do that?


where this comes from :
seemaxrun thoughts 2000

where the art work comes from :
that is out of order by thamer altassan

37 Responses to who would do that?

  1. Max:

    Obviously, the restaurant management got tired of the same old “mens’ room here, womens’ room there” and decided to switch things around. It happens all the time. Either that — and this is probably the more likely explanation — you and your friend accidentally entered an alternate universe, one in which the bathrooms were in different positions. Before you laugh and think I’m crazy, I’ve got to let you in on a secret — I’m living in an alternate universe where a man can get elected president through the use of the Supreme Court. How freaky is that?

  2. A man with a really odd sense of humor. :D

    And Max, I’ve been to Pesos (it sounds like the same one), and the steak tacos are really good. It’s one of the few places where I’ll break my “Mexican food MUST be prepared and served by Mexicans (or those of Mexican descent)” rule.

    The other is Baskin-Robbins.

  3. Max, this is priceless!
    “The toilet is wrong.” LMAO.

    BTW, glad to hear that you made out OK with the fires.

  4. Years ago, I was working in an IT shop, and talking with our webmaster about a problem FTP’ing some files. He thinks I’m exceeding the file size limit. We’re walking into the bathroom at this point, not realizing we’re being followed by a co-worker who has NOT been listening to the conversation.

    After I state that the size of the file is around 50MB, the webmaster looks at me (as we stand at the urinals) and says “Wow… that is big.”

    We continued on with the discussion, finally noticing that the guy who followed us in is standing behind us, trying to not listen to closely, but unable to stop. He finally broke the silence with, “OK… I’m soooooo glad you guys are talking about file sizes.”

    We looked at each other, then over our shoulders at him and said, “We were?” ;)

  5. BTW, if you’re really into “bathroom etiquette” in the Men’s room, try the Urinal Game.

  6. max

    I am so not into bathroom etiquette in mens’ rooms.

  7. hey… I’m just trying to help you get ready for the next quilting bee

  8. Wait… the toilet was all wrong? In a stall with a door, why would the toilet be any different?

    Is this another one of those good sex/bad sex things where I just need to accept that women’s butts have different requirements than men’s?

  9. Okay Max, I’ll fess up- I live like 25 miles away from Queen Anne Hill but I’m from a long line of people who play with signs.

    We’re like a tribe.

    Anyways, when I was 11 Community Transit started up in Snohomish County and whoo hooo we got local bus service.

    Of course the streets in Terrace are weird and back then the direction signs were made of wood and spun around when the wind blew. Terrace was really small and god knows why we had signs cause none of us needed them.

    Well, I was one of those little kids that always had a stick or something in her hands and when I would walk to my friend’s houses or to school I use to like to run from corner to corner and spin the signs and then I’d look back and check my handiwork.

    One day I’m sitting in my room minding my own business when I hear this knock at the front door and my Mom is talking away and just as I hear it shuts she yells, ” Jesus Christ “.

    In my house I never heard my name without Jesus Christ in there- so it got to the point if someone screamed ” Jesus Christ ” I’d yell back ” What? ”

    Anyway I go out to the living room and my Mom is fuming- she tells me that was the FOURTH bus driver to knock at her door because they were lost and they needed directions.

    Lost buses= Anita Marie. In our house it made sense. It was years before I figured out I was the one who got all those buses lost.

    But I swear this Pesos thing…it wasn’t me. I DON’T THINK.

  10. max

    “Is this another one of those good sex/bad sex things where I just need to accept that women’s butts have different requirements than men’s?”

    Did you know how bad that sentence looked going in and do it on purpose or was that just an unfortunate accident?

  11. How long have I been scribbling graffiti in the comments of your blog? Have I ever posted something by accident?

    (To set the record… uhm… straight, I don’t know the requirements of men’s butts where sex is concerned.)

    At least you didn’t have to correct my grammar or punctuation. :D

  12. So glad I hate Mexican food.

    Max, this is hilarious! But isn’t it normal for girls these days to use the men’s bathroom?

    No? No?

  13. I barge into the mens bathroom with my son when I have too and it’s very funny to see them wonder if they are in the right place or not. I give them a look and might say something like, it’s alright, I’ll be quick. Usually, I take him into the womens with me but sometimes I don’t have a choice.

    Anita, my name was “Jesus Jennifer!”

  14. “I barge into the mens bathroom with my son when I have too and it’s very funny to see them wonder if they are in the right place or not. I give them a look and might say something like, it’s alright, I’ll be quick.”

    Alternatively, you could say, “Don’t worry… whatever you’re packin’, I’ve seen better.”

  15. Max:

    Do you have an email address or does everyone communicate with you via “comments?” (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)


    PS: My email is but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.

  16. (Not to be nosey, but you might want to add an “n” somewhere in that email address.)

  17. Thanks, Firm. You’re right about that. Hopefully, there won’t be a thousand spammers hanging out here (then again, why wouldn’t there be?)


  18. The ones that will bomb you aren’t gonna read the text to figure it out. That’s why Me (at) someplace (dot) com is hard for them to parse.

  19. Max:

    Just thought you might like to check out my amazing abilities.

    Post Title: “Max Adams – Revealed.”

  20. Alternatively, you could say, “Don’t worry… whatever you’re packin’, I’ve seen better.”

    Oh! (Wincing)

  21. You’re talking about a gun, right Firm?

  22. max

    Um. Richard. Did you just put up a post about me in which you used the word “cyberslut,” implied I was sexually active at age 14, speculated about my age in public, made questionable references to sexual positions, linked me by inference to Don Adams, and intimated the name that appears on my passport and driver’s license is a psuedonym?

  23. Max:

    My answer depends on whether or not I’m going to wind up as some kind of DATELINE: NBC cover story.

    Would it help if I told you I meant everything in the best possible way?


  24. max

    There is no best possible way to imply a woman is promiscuous and/or has been from a young age, to publicly discuss her age, or to imply her name is a lie.

  25. Does the screenplay writing class include anything about basing fiction on real people?

  26. You should read what he wrote about you and a man in a gorilla suit on my blog.

  27. Max:

    Tell you what — public apology here. I suspect that I’ve offended you and that wasn’t my intent. I was just kidding around a bit. I suppose that I thought there was a playfulness about you that I probably misinterpreted. That’s the problem with the damned internet. It’s very open to interpretation — and, more importantly, it’s very open to misinterpretation.

    Once again — apologies all around.


  28. Max:

    If you check out my site, you’ll see that I’ve decided to stop playing. I don’t want to either offend you or else weird you out. And for anyone else here, if I’ve stepped on any toes, it wasn’t intentional. I’m one of those boorish people who tends to just jump right in without checking to see how hot (or cold) a reception is going to be.


  29. max

    Thank you for your apology Richard.

  30. You’re welcome, Max. It was truly sincere. I just forget that not everyone is as open as I am to fooling around with wordplay and creative insanity. (And that’s a defect in me and not in anyone else, by the way. I tend to not recognize boundaries the way that normal people do, I guess.)

  31. Richard! Do you use form posts or what? You used the same lines on me! Smooth move, dude! lol

  32. max

    [i am not fixing any more posts tonight for people who do not log in]

  33. max, don’t feed the trolls.

    There ARE no Mexicans in Seattle. I live in Canada and even I know that.

    And you know those guys in the washroom? They’re probably thinking that Seattle has the most AMAZING trannies in the world. Joni Mitchell once went to a Joni Mitchell impersonator’s concert, and before the show she couldn’t get any peace for all the people coming up to her table to say, “Hey man, you’re REALLY GOOD!”

  34. max

    I remember being sixteen, mildly intoxicated in this Hollywood club with a buddy of mine who had some real interesting dressing habits — though not nearly as interesting as his roommate’s green sparkley capes with speedos — surrounded by men in drag and I was looking into the mirror behind the bar wondering if anyone would mistake me for a guy in drag and realizing no, that would never happen. My make up was not perfect. And theirs was.

  35. I got a guy at Goth Night to do my eyeliner once. Hey, it’s a good way to get flirting and at least at Goth Night the boys in makeup might be straight. Besides, they’re all art students; they do it perfectly.

  36. max

    Oh wow. Goth Night. You have to tell about that.

  37. What an interesting thread….

    Funny story, too.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *