To the man next to me at the urinal in Echo Lake Park,
Dear sir,
Last week, when it seemed certain that I would be attending the Ed Palermo Big Band performance (last night) I mentally prepared myself for the potential eventuality that I, and my friend G, would dine first. To be fair, this isn't a foregone conclusion. When would G get to my place? Would he be hungry? Would I? That said, when G arrived at my house, I gave him the full restaurant list which included Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Indian, pub, and even to just "get a slice." The world was our oyster. G picked Thai, and I'm always in the mood for cuisine of the far east. To Thai we went.
Now, as luck would have it, sir, it was directly on our route between my house and the concert venue: Echo Lake Park. I know you know it because I saw you there...but I digress. We hit the Siam House on Route 22 directly across from Bowcraft. Is it my favorite Thai restaurant? Probably not. I hold a special place in my heart for the Thai restaurants of Montclair where my wife and I would fight over chocolate soufflé, topped with whipped cream and drizzled with even more warm, melted chocolate. Regardless, Siam House is certainly serviceable and, as I already mentioned, on-route.
My companion ordered the Pad Thai, a crowd favorite while I ordered the Pad See Ew. How spicy? Not, please. I did however ask for the chili sauce on the side so, if I so desired, I could add a bit of heat. Now, sir, pay attention, the following events better explains our impromptu meeting. I may have overdone it with the spice (the Spice, Arrakis!). Like most people, I attempted to combat the temporary sensation with multiple glasses of water. Keep them coming please. Food was delicious and not too spicy to eat (and far from the spiciest) but certainly, the water was well appreciated.
Fast forward to the concert. The first set was killer, as I'm sure you'll agree. Music by the Big Band was varied and extended all the way from the Beach Boys to Jimi Hendrix and King Crimson. After a rousing "21st CENTURY SCHIZOID MAN" set closer there were needs. That aforementioned water was left with no place to go. And, there's how we met, if you get my meaning.
So, imagine my surprise when surveying available urinals in the Men's room (not port-o-johns, thank you Echo Lake and Union County), seeing you clearly over a foot away from the porcelain, relieving yourself while having adopted a relaxed leaning back position. Sir, I understand that everyone needs their space and/or enjoys a very casual leak, but in the crazy hubbub of set-break, at a public venue, where toilet space is limited to the three urinals in a park, certain protocols should be followed. I'm not asking you to hug the bowl, but even you have to admit that you were clearly more exposed than the rest of us who now had to navigate around you in order to use the other stalls...or access the sinks...or the hand dryer...or the paper towels. You, sir, were an impediment to progress...almost Christie-esque in that sense. Seriously though, the logistics of your preferred stance did cause issue for those of us wanting to spend as little time in the Gents as possible. Also with that degree of exposure, consider the potential draft! Consider your your need for sharp-shooter-like aim! Consider the children!
In summary, Sir, I implore you: next time, please stand closer to the receptacle. There is certain information about your physical being that the rest of us never need know. And, your placement within the bathroom made it almost impossible to miss as we merely walked in the door and, boom, there you were. This may come as some shock to you, but, in this case, modesty may be the best policy.
That said, I hope the rest of your concert was enjoyable. If we meet again, I hope it's under better, and quite different, circumcision...I mean circumstances. Sorry.
Sincerely,
Herb Scott August
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