Paul’s Psycho Theater (Part 2)

July 1, 2009, 8:38 a.m. by Paul Stiverson
A bunch of other interns and I were wanting to go to this event, a speech of some sort honoring some guy. The speech was taking place down toward San Jose, about 12 miles away from where we all were. Despite the fact that I have a car we decided that it would be fun to “Borrow” the keynote speaker’s RV to get to the speech. We found it and broke in, but as soon as we started driving we were found out by the cops who started chasing us immediately. Thankfully we were better drivers than they (somehow we knew all the roads really well and traffic wasn’t a problem), and we made it to the event unscathed. Evading the cops was really way too easy, it was like running from the cops in GTA (1.5~2.5 star level), but their cars were slower than our RV. I’m not really sure what or where this event was, but it took place in a lecture hall sort of place, think Blocker 102, but longer. We were seated near the back, and inexplicably the speaker was seated back there as well, he was actually planning on delivering the speech from the back. It was a clever ruse, lets see if it works out for him. The speech started with something of an introduction where the guy’s credentials were delivered, I remember clearly that he did his undergraduate work at Berkeley, and his graduate work at Stanford. Toward the end of the introduction I made some smart-ass remark, and the speaker—being seated the row behind me—heard and was taken aback. He decided to punish me by making me introduce him, I simply recited the previous introduction, but was tripped up on a few details. I was really trying very hard to remember all his bona fides (and make all the same jokes as the unseen speaker), but drew a blank on a few minor details. The speech ended pretty abruptly after that and we all headed outside. As we left the lecture hall (I remember talking to another intern about the speaker having done his undergrad at Berkeley and his graduate work at Stanford, but it took me 3 tries to say it right) I suggested that we distance ourselves from the quote-unquote Scene of the Crime, also known as the RV we had previously stolen. My cohorts looked over the area and decided that there were no cops about, despite the fact that stereotypical swat and surveillance vans were circling the area. I decided I wanted nothing to do with their foolishness and that I would find my own ride home rather than go to jail. As I walked away from them I saw them open the RV door and lo, cops come piling out arresting them all immediately. One of my fellow interns immediately cracks, and I see him point at me, I think to myself “Oh shit, I’m fucked” and start signaling to other people as if I know them. A cop walks up to me and asks me to step aside with him to answer some questions. At this point I realize that I am carrying a green army laundry bag over my shoulder and that I certainly look suspicious, I also realize that I need to crap really badly. I asked the cops if they were going to detain me, they said no, I ask them if I’m free to go, and they say no. Seemed like a contradiction. I told them that I really had to poop, and that I remembered there being a public restroom nearby. The let me leave to crap on my promise to return immediately, I left my duffel bag with them because I really didn’t feel like carrying it anymore. As I walked away I told them, that is still my property, and it would still be a violation of my Fourth Amendment rights if you searched it without my permission—apparently I’m a lawyer in my sleep. I scampered in the direction of the bathroom. What I found was the weirdest part of my dream, and I someday have to build it. (If you are still reading then this next paragraph is your reward) The bathroom that I found was really more like a locker-room for giants. It was about half the size of a city block, and it had all sorts of high-school locker room types of stuff, but at a ridiculous scale. I found the stalls, they were 15ft tall and blue, the bluest blue I had ever seen. Also the stalls were about 100ft long and 20ft wide, I opened the absurdly sized door and made my way down the long corridor to the most amazingly convoluted toilet I have ever conceived of. Let me see if I can adequately describe it: There was a big blue cube, it was taller than me, but when I jumped up I could see the hole (where the poop goes). From this blue cube two arms extended (toward the door), they were hinged to the cube, and they had an elbow in the middle. At the end of the arm there was a stainless steel seat (3ft, square), but notably there was no hole in the seat (for the poop to fall through). Below the seat there was a foot-rest, or perhaps it was a stirrup (where your feet would go while you poop). I think that you were supposed to sit on the seat (which would have been a feat considering it was at shoulder height), which then moved you into position over the toilet tank over which you poop. Bizarre design, but intriguing. (In case the description didn’t work for you there is a drawing below) [The more I think about it the more I think it was a trap. If I had sat on the seat it would have just dropped me into the shit-hole. I’m really glad I decided against it.] Needless to say there was no way for me to poop anywhere in that bathroom, so I needed to venture further into the unknown to find a place to poop, I saw a mall down the street and headed for it. It is well past midnight at this point so there is nothing open, but I manage to get inside the mall and begin fruitlessly looking for a toilet. I’m not sure how long I wandered around the mall, but it was a while. When I finally exited I was carrying shopping bags: paper in my left hand, plastic in my right. There had to have been 50lbs of stuff in those bags, but I wasn’t really sure what that stuff might have been. I walked through the parking lot, still looking for a toilet, but slightly concerned that the cops would be looking for me by now and thinking that I should probably get back to where I had left them (so I could collect my duffel bag). I saw a convertible driving toward me, in it were two ladies. When it pulled up beside me I realized that there were two more ladies crammed in behind the front row of seats. I asked them where the theater was (that is where the speech was held apparently), and they didn’t know. The did describe—in great detail—the political dealings of the area, about how the director of Ames was lobbying for blah, blah, blah. I asked them where I might find a bathroom and they prattled on about nothing useful or interesting (typical womanly behavior, am I right? HIGH FIVE!). I decided to take my leave of them, which my mind mistook for wanting to wake up. Lying in bed I realized that I really did have to (and still do need to) poop. I’ll see you in the next installment of Paul’s Psycho Theater.
Strange Giant Toilet Trap
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faith Says:

July 23, 2009
ok, that is also hilarious. (= it\'s so interesting what your mind will come up with when you\'re not conscious of it. i frequently have dreams in which i am looking for a bathroom & can\'t find one. or i\'ll be in a bathroom with hundreds of stalls, but there\'s something wrong with all of them, like they don\'t have a door, or the toilet is overflowing, or something. a while back i finally figured out that i have those dreams when i have to go to the bathroom, so now, instead of getting stressed out, i wake myself up & go to the bathroom. problem solved.

mark Says:

July 1, 2009
Aren\'t you glad I requested a \'dreams\' link? I know I am.

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