So my nephew, the music prodigy, graduated from his groovy-woovy school in LA on Saturday. Since I was already in Los Angeles, I made my way to the wonderful old Wiltern Theater (and I JUST now figured out that Wiltern is an amalgam of Wilshire and Western, the intersection where the theater is located).
The Wiltern is one of those great old theaters with tons of decorative elements. Seating is perfect for a show. And I have to say, going to a rock and roll school’s graduation was far less painful than any other graduation I’ve attended thus far.
They had snacks and drinks for all the parents and friends, and given the high volume of dehydrating I had managed, I took to the water like a mermaid. Inevitably, nature called and I proceeded into a beautifully ornate men’s room in the basement of the theater.
The room was almost completely deserted, but I could hear the unmistakable sounds of a voice coming through a phone behind one of the stall doors. Now, anyone who has read this blog for any length of time will remember my keen aversion to cell phone use in public bathrooms. Actually, in ANY bathrooms.
But somebody was in here having a conversation with Charlie Brown’s teacher, from the sound of it.
“Wah-wah, wah-wah-wah,” said the teacher. “Wah-wah. Wah-wah-wah-wah.”
“Because I’m trying to wipe my ass!” said the in-stall-er.
“BECAUSE I’M TRYING TO WIPE MY ASS!” he repeated, obviously troubled by his callers insensitivity to his situation.
After I got over my shock. And finished giggling. I thought, “Wow. That would make an awesome ad for Bluetooth Hands Free.”
Of course, if I had been on the other end of that conversation, I wouldn’t have ever called his unwiped ass again.