|My mailbox at the WWHQ.|
Anyway, all of those many mailman-related fears came rushing back to me the other day when I was in the bathroom, because what better place to feel totally insecure. Right? Here is a room which is designed for all of the gross stuff we as humans have to so to survive: We pee, we crap. It is the one room where it is totally okay to just rip a tremendous fart even if someone else is in there. That is why we have a bathroom. But that is also why we have scented things in the bathroom. To cover up all that disgusting stuff because although essential and although corralled into a single room, it is still disgusting to our delicate sensibilities.
And so when the motion sensor scent releasing machine - let's call it the Douche Machine - went off as soon as I passed gas while peeing at the urinal (multi-tasking, I was multi-tasking) I immediately got both self-conscious and offended, because I was pretty sure that someone timed it that way on purpose.
They didn't. I know that. You know that. The whole world knows that. I can already hear what you are going to say, Company. "Those things just have little motion sensors in them and they go off when they sense motion." Or maybe "They are on a timer so settle yourself to stop being all butt-hurt, Big Dave. Pun definitely intended." But here is the thing: The Douche Machine didn't go off when I walked into the bathroom. It didn't go off when I whipped out my other Big Dave. And it didn't go off when I unleashed my stream of justice down upon the urinal cake. No, no it did not. It waited until two seconds after the exact moment when I finished venting my aft torpedo tube if you know what I mean. Then BAM! The scent of elderberries filled the room. Or vanilla. Or pine scent. I don't know, I am a boy, I can't tell these things apart. It might have even been sandalwood. But I will tell you this: It was way too close to be a coincidence. Right?
|Oh look! Now there are three Douche Machines.|
Of course there is no person with a camera and microphone in the bathroom who controls the Douche Machine. I know that, Company. I am pretty sure that it is on a timer because I have heard it douche lavender or whatever scent when I am walking by in the hallway and I know there is nobody in the bathroom. I can put two and two together on occasion. But sometimes when I do, it makes five. Especially when it is multiplied by my crippling insecurity. I mean, I both shower and wear deodorant, so I am obviously doubly concerned about smelling fresh, like the coast of Ireland or whatever. And I even use soap in the shower! So when it just so happens that the random plastic timer on the Douche Machine reaches the "douche" setting right as I perform one of the odorous functions that it is perfectly acceptable to do in the bathroom, 2+2 will equal 5 every single time. Every. Single. Time.