Social Errancy

Who’s writing their copy these days: Sally Fields?

On the way in to the office this morning I had a flat. 1

Fortunately I wasn’t far away from a QuikTrip. 2 I parked near the free air station and managed to get the flat changed in 15 minutes with only minimal crud accruing itself to my clothing. 3

I then made use of QT’s Men’s Room. 4 I cleaned myself up at a sink, and then cleaned the mess I had made. All of that water running over my hands and arms stimulated another urge, so I walked to a conveniently located urinal to relieve myself.

Whilst at the urinal, dick literally in hand, I read – as it was framed directly in front of my eyes – the following:

“Like Us” on facebook…

My first response was that this whole “social media” bullshit has gone too far.

My second feeling was one of sadness. Back in the day when I spent no little amount of time with my dick in hand in any number of  bars’ men’s room 5, there were attractive women (in various states of {dis}repair) for me to view. Many of these lasses held something tall, cool and foamy in their hands or up to their mouths. The overall design/effect was at once light hearted, colorful and stimulating. 6. Sometimes there would even be sports copy or trivia strategically positioned just under their superstructure to peruse. You know, if you were so inclined. Hell, I can remember at least a couple of bars that posted the day’s newspaper in the same spot, and one particular watering hole (sorry) that would post the NYT’s.

All that’s been replaced by Facebook? All I can say is this latest generation is woeful.

Then sadness was replaced by puzzlement: “Like Us”…? Shouldn’t that read ‘“Like” us…’, in reference to Facebook’s “like” button? And what’s up with QT demoting ‘Facebook’ to ‘facebook’? Did Google acquire QT at the same time they bought Dealmap and then set QT to taunting and sneering in the general direction of ‘facebook’?

Finally I was moved to disgust; what the hell was I doing with my dick in my hand musing over bullshit? I had things to do, places to go 7 and minions to terrorize. I finished my business, redressed myself, washed my hands (again) and went back into the main store.

This next part I can’t explain.

True, one of QT’s ever busy clerks was mopping the floors 8 so it’s feasible I might have tripped and hit my head. But I don’t remember that.

And it’s also possible I simply went a little tetch’d; it runs in the family. But I swear to you that when I walked back into the main store area, every single person there was walking around with their dicks in their hands. Except the women, of course; they were walking around (or standing) with their hands on their pussies. The women kinda looked like the black folk who have all simultaneously decided to  a) never wear a belt again, and b) wear oversized pants that won’t stay up.

Except the women’s clothing all still fit. They were just holding their pussies.

Obviously I found this sight…uh…distracting. I mean, it’s not something you see every day, and as I had no good explanation for it, I decided to forgo my usual coffee and just leave. I averted my eyes from…well, everything…and went outside.

Where I found the same fucking thing.

Construction guys, office workers, delivery guys, cops; everyone was standing around holding their dicks or pussies. I scampered to my car and got the hell out of there.

On the road I wondered if everyone in the cars around me were also fixated with their genitalia but I couldn’t tell. And I was late enough to work that no one else walked from the parking lot into the office with me. Inside was more of the same, however – pretty much everyone standing around with their dick in their hands.

I don’t know what to make of it. I mean, on a Monday I might understand. But Tuesday? Doesn’t make any sense.

Surprisingly, it turns out to be depressing.


_____________________________________________________________________

Show 8 footnotes

  1. Yes, of course I was wearing off-white chinos and a yellow Polo.
  2. For those readers outside of our specific 6 state slice of America, QuikTrip, or QT as we’re wont to say, is a small, private chain of pleasantly appointed, ultra clean and oh so effectively marketed mini-marts that also dispense gas & diesel. Think 7-11s. Well, think 7-11s as they once aspired to be. Anyhow, one of QT’s salient features – besides always being able to get a fresh cup of coffee – is a free working air compressor, enough space to safely change a tire, and clean bathrooms to wash up in afterward. All Hail QT! Hail! Hail! Hail!
  3. Think Tide pre-soak.
  4. Where I could still smell the wonderful aroma of fresh brewed coffee.
  5. Rather than stumble outside to urinate like I saw some kid do the last time I visited Westport.
  6. No…not that stimulating, you fucking perv.
  7. Work, damnit.
  8. It is axiomatic that a QT clerk will be mopping the floor of almost any store you ever enter.

2 thoughts on “Social Errancy”

  1. You have many contacts
    Among the lumberjacks
    To get you facts
    When someone attacks your imagination
    But nobody has any respect
    Anyway they already expect you
    To all give a check
    To tax-deductible charity organizations.
    You’ve been with the professors
    And they’ve all liked your looks
    With great lawyers you have
    Discussed lepers and crooks
    You’ve been through all of
    F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books
    You’re very well read
    It’s well known.

    But something is happening here
    And you don’t know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones ?

Something to say...?