July 08, 2010
A Prediction, a Stupid Move, and a Brief Movie Review
In a million years, human beings will evolve/devolve to the point where we don’t have thumbs; just two fingers with which to press the buttons and release food pellets from our iFridge. And it’s all because of our bathrooms.
Once we step out of our homes, bathrooms everywhere become some sort of space pods. All you have to do is wave your hand in front of a sensor to flush the toilet, make the water come out of the sink faucet, dispense paper towels, and turn on the hand dryer. Oh, and then you can push the handicap button to open the bathroom door. And it’s only a matter of time before bathroom stalls will sense they are occupied and lock the door for you.
Sadly for me, my DNA was spliced with reptile DNA while I was still in the womb, and as a result, I cannot regulate my own body temperature. My body becomes the temperature of whatever space I’m in. Therefore, it is nearly impossible for me to activate any kind of bathroom sensor. Sometimes I have to move from sink to sink to sink, desperately flapping my hands around in the basin, trying to get a trickle of water.
So Heather and I went to see “Eclipse” the other day. I’m not proud. By way of a review, I’ll say that I think I’ve just seen the same movie three times, and I’m very tired of the worn-out stereotype that all really old vampires are stoic automatons with zero personality. But the action scenes were pretty good, especially the synchronized hood-removal.
"One, two, three -- hoods down!"
We bought our Junior Mints and went in for our pre-movie potty stop. I noticed my bangs had been made to be less-than-perfection by the wind, so I got out my hairbrush. After all, I was about to be in a dark theatre with a dozen people I would never see again. I had to look my best!
Brush in hand, I put my purse on the bathroom counter, in between me and the sink basin. I leaned over slightly to groom myself and promptly knocked my purse over. And then, the skin of a long-dead cow that made up my pink Coach purse managed to do something that I myself never have -– it turned on the water, immediately and with full force.
I was so resentful, I just stood there and glared at the water. Heather screamed and fished my purse outta the sink… but not before the water filled up the interior pocket that held my cell phone. Two potential financial losses, and all I could do was laugh bitterly while Heather pulled paper towels outta the dispenser.
Thank God Heather still has opposable thumbs or my cell phone would have been trashed. As it stands, only the brown leather shoulder strap on my purse has some water spots on it. The rest of it -– inside and out -– is pure and uncompromised. Which, I guess, says something for Coach craftsmanship. Coach leather: more supple and lifelike than the humanoid reptilian hand.
Comments
Where to begin? I think I will laugh about this all day long!
"my bangs had been made to be less-than-perfection by the wind"
Posted by: Diane Schmidt at July 8, 2010 07:30 AM