May 9th, 2006, 12:31 AM
Terror at 3 1/2 Feet
The evening was slowly growing darker. The store, while quieting down for the typical dinnertime lull, still had a few customers buying toys, tricking themselves into believing what we have in stock is actually worth spending money on.
Ringing up a sudden burst of people all coming up to the register at once, I make my plans to take my break after sending them home with their temporary moments of joy, and eventual everlasting sense of emptyness. I inform the manager of my retreat, and head out to buy a soda from the Staples next door - The sugar rush filling the void left by my now-crushed soul as the drive that keeps me alive.
I stagger back to the store I work in, like a desparate inmate being dragged down Death Row to his eventual demise. After purchasing a piece of candy to hold my stomach over until the end of work, I wander to the back room in search of solitude. Setting my meal down on the dirty fold-out table, littered with papers and old pizza boxes, I go to the bathroom to clean my hands just enough to fool myself into thinking they're OK to touch what will be going into my mouth shortly.
My hands hit with the cold shock of water rushing over them, like they hand been stabbed through with icicles. I glance over to the empty bottle of soap, then to the roll of worthless paper towels on the back of the toilet, knowing full well that they won't get my hands dry, so much as fall apart and stick to me until a more natural drying process makes it easy to rub them off.
BAM!
The door flies open, as a little black kid, no older than 7, rushes into the bathroom. I straighten up and proceed to turn the faucet off, preparing the surrender of this foul place to my intruder. But the split-seconds are not fast enough, as other plans are going into action... horrible plans.
No sooner did this child enter the bathroom, did he have his pants open and off. His seal was broken, and a stream of urine thrashed into the toilet waters like the raging Krakken attacking a wayward ship. It came so fast, one might think the only thing holding it in was the waistband of his underwear pressing into the shaft of his tiny hairless boy penis. And I need not see any of this; The sounds were all it took to reach into the depths of my heart, and remove any last remaining sense of self that lie within, as images of unspeakable truths raped my brain.
But what I DID see? Out the corner of my eye as I struggled to defy space and time by leaving as fast as I possibly could?
He was looking at me. While he peed.
All this happened during the course of 2 seconds, and that's being generous. Time just did not exist in this moment of extreme awkwardness and fear.
All I could was idly sip my soda and chow down my candy, staring into space as I felt myself dying inside. I didn't know what to think. I STILL don't know what to think. All I know is that a little boy barged into the bathroom while I was trying to wash my hands, and started peeing while he looked at me.
I've never felt so violated in all my life.
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