The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Sunday, April 26, 2009

Can You Feel The Love Tonight? Part Two: The Legend Of Curly's Gold

Jen and I went out to Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner on Saturday night. And BWW is still batting a thousand when it comes to poor service. But after we finished eating, I suggested to Jen that we go over to Books-A-Million to look at magazines. Now, I knew that I had to go to the bathroom before we left BWW, but I didn't use their restroom for a couple of reasons.

Reason #1 -- There is no partition in the bathroom for the urinal. Which means that whenever anyone opens the door to the men's room everyone with a line of sight can see the whole enchilada. (Please note that I do not call any part of my body "enchilada." I simply couldn't think of another expression in this case and point.)

Reason #2 -- Even though I made a vow to myself to never again step foot inside the Books-A-Million men's room, it would give me an excellent excuse to go to the Books-A-Million men's room to see if any aspiring Roger Eberts had posted their movie reviews on the wall.

So, Jen started looking at the the fiction books and I headed back to the bathroom. I turned the corner to the bathroom and saw a small note right above the handle to the door.


I smiled and started to walk back towards the front. I passed by Jen and she looked at me quite oddly. She grabbed my hand.

"I thought you were going to the bathroom?"

I noticed an associate was shelving books right beside her.

I replied, "I am, but I have to find an associate to unlock the bathroom."

I asked associate to let me into the bathroom. As I walked past Jen towards the bathroom, I could see her face had turned bright red. I tried to chat up the employee about why they had started locking the doors. I wanted to ask him if this was all because of some ironic/unusual graffiti that someone had blogged about, but I figured that would be too much. He opened the door, and I went in.

I stepped up to the urinal and proceeded to have the most satisfying "void" I have had since I passed a kidney stone in October. I washed my hands, and went back outside to find Jen. She standing in the magazine aisle waiting for me to come out.

"This is all your fault," she said.

"Fault?" I replied.

"Yeah, this is all your fault."

"You've got it all wrong. I was the victim. This is justice. I'm a vigilante."

She began to roll her eyes, but I was already envisioning what my "Watchmen" character would be. We sat on a bench and watched probably a dozen or so folks try to go into the bathroom. And each one had to go find the same employee to let them in.

"I bet that guy hates you," Jen said.

"Well, I didn't write the graffiti, I just wrote about it on my blog."

I have a site meter on my blog, so I know the number of hits my blog has had. I can view locations as well. And the week after I blogged about the Lion King graffiti, there were quite a few hits that showed the Books-A-Million IP address from Birmingham, AL.

So maybe some upper level mustaches from Books-A-Million found this blog about "The Lion King" in the bathroom and decided to do something about it. I never figured that a blog with a grand total of 24,000 hits could be so powerful.

So maybe the pen truly is mightier that the sword. Except I don't write this with a pen. And I am not exactly sure what the sword would represent in this metaphor either.

We walked back out to the jeep and Jen looked my smug smile that couldn't wiped off my face.

"You are so proud of yourself?"

"I am. Some people are reading my blog, and it is making some sort of a difference."

"Yeah, but you are making a difference in Books-A-Million bathrooms."

I laughed. "I know, and I have never been more proud of myself."

This pride must be what Upton Sinclair felt.


Blogger The Hall Family said...

Lafe, your blog is always insightful and entertaining but this post made me spit out my drink I was laughing so hard. I can't wait to show this one to Byron.--Alicia

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