for Charles Bukowski
At a "professional" "development" day
of exceeding boredom
I had a few moments of blessed solitude
I walked much farther away than required to relieve myself
Alone in the stall I huddled
Away from lines
In blessed quiet, I sat
Meditatively on the black enamel seat.
"HEY ROY!" some entering professional female cried
Her braying bouncing off the tile.
"IF YOU HEAR ME GO 'PHHHBBBFFPHHHTTT!!!' YOU'LL KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!
IF YOU DON'T, YOU'LL KNOW I'M JUST PEEING!!!" she hollered to the "empty" bathroom.
At the same time as this, I, of necessity, blew my nose.
"OH MY GOD, ROY!" she went on. "THERE'S SOMEONE IN HERE AND THEY HEARD ME SAY THAT! I'M GOING IN ANYWAY!" she uttered, proceeding to the seat to make the aforementioned noises.
Outside, Roy, a forty-eight-something man clad in t-shirt and trucker hat, cornered me.
"How's it going?" he said, pushing against me with his subnormal energy field.
"All right," I said, and kept walking.
"Is your class as boring as ours?" he continued, extending a cloud of creepy, low-grade intimidation my way.
I continued walking, out of the cloud and into some rays of sunshine down the hall. "Just a few more hours," I reassured him, hustling out of this especially dense field of time/space.
I guess we're all subnormal sometimes.
--- Written June 22, 2006