Anonymous Etiquette and Embracing Nihilism

Despite aforementioned resolutions to spare you the mundane details of my life I have decided to include a very hateable polar opposite. A dream sequence. Yes, I am also sometimes annoyed by those dickheads who feel compelled to divulge the details of their dreams and expect some ground breaking insight that will somehow make them stop pissing the bed or whatever their problem is. Having studied psychology I get this occasionally. About half the time I mess with the person who decides to push this particular button. You would do the same. Anyway, I just spent my first night in my brand new chocolate leather bed. Yes it is as cool as it sounds. But I think some Malaysian children must have died during its construction or something as I think it is haunted. I had a very vivid disturbing dream right before I woke up.

The dream took me a couple of coffees to shake off, the mojo of it really stayed with me. The dream involved me looking down at a toddler version of myself listening and feeling an intense sense of anticipation, like I was about to hear some prophetic news that would somehow be pivotal to my existence. This twisted visage of myself, that was really a combination of present day me and toddler me (yes, ugly), informed me (with the backing music as Madness: Welcome to the house of fun) in a solemn speech that all he wanted was to grow up to grow a moustache and a mullet. No shit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6ruVqtPVPA

I woke up and immediately pondered the meaning of this and came to the conclusion that it did not mean shit. It was a nothing dream with no implications. Anyone will tell you I like moustaches, no surprises there. The mullet and toddler thing, fucks me. It doesn’t mean shit. And I can t even remember the last time I heard that song. And this is where I got snagged. The dream didn’t mean anything, it is gone and leaves nothing more then a memory. And I thought, how is this any different from my life and the lives of those around me. I m not really that depressive and cynical. But a real nihilistic mood caught me this morning. Sure it did not manifest in anything more then me walking around the house nude a bit, not caring about anything. I had some coffee, perked up and put some clothes on. The mood passed.

But this nihilism intrigues me. And the only way I think most of us embrace it is when we are in anonymous situations. Then we truly do not give a fuck about anything and this in some ways is a beautiful thing. Of course I am not a nihilistic public masturbator. I nearly typed that I am normal, but didn’t for risk of losing all credibility. But I obey societies rules usually.

That dream may seem like a rickety segue into the filth that follows, but hey. I got to thinking on a regular social situation that comes up in most of our lives, involves anonymity and definitely involves letting go. Imagine a workplace. Say an office with about 15 colleagues or so. Everyone knows everyone, at least a bit. You are not anonymous usually. But in the bathroom when the cubicle doors are shut, you and the person next to you are anonymous. You start out a little shy, letting it all out slowly. Maybe a little sneaky squeaky one sneaks out. You might even have to cover your mouth to stop a burst of laughter. I’ve heard of people going to extreme lengths to ensure they avoid all audible noises. Taking the cake are the stories where a standoff has occurred. Neither wants to unload for risk of exposing themselves as a loud and therefore disgusting toilet user. Longest stand off I’ve heard of is nearly an hour. Imagine the hellish packages these two must have been anticipating (and the pain of resistance) to go for so long without doing their stuff. And these were blokes, imagine the female reactions, feel free to comment.




This stand off situation is best avoided by a Hiroshima effort as soon as you get in there. Blow the friggin base out of the toilet as soon as possible, end the war. Pre-emptive strike. Maybe even groan a little or whistle if you are particularly impressed with yourself. This will make your colleague feel relaxed and facilitate an economical dunny session. But, back to the point, the anonymity is the key here. All this flawless etiquette logic goes out the window if you both finish up at the same time and wink at each other while you are washing your hands. Try it out both ways and see which one ends well.

I feel really good about sharing this insight with the world. I feel like I have somehow contributed. Imagine how many people will be relaxed during work toilet sessions because of this. Millions.

No sex in this entry. No booze or drugs in this entry. Just a creamy shot of my brain juice for you to swallow down. It is running down your chin………