Had a busy day yesterday that seemed frought with annoyances. First had brunch with Kerry at Cafe Madison. The food was, as always, top notch, but the fact that there was a line right out the door waiting to be seated was absurd. I don’t really understand what the purpose of attempting to seat more people than the establishment can handle, but there is always a ludicrously long line there. Generally I make reservations just because of that, but until yesterday wasn’t aware they took reservations for times other than dinners. Will certainly make a note of that for future outings.
Afterward, I ran a few errands — and even with a list managed to forget half the things ON the list — and went to the Madison Theater to see X-Men Origins: Wolverine. The movie wasn’t exactly terrible, but it was certainly not the best thing I’ve ever seen. Though, anything is an improvement over X3 if you ask me. It was practically awesome when compared to my theater experience wherein not only did the staff prove completely unhelpful in pretty much every way I expect them to be helpful, e.g. help a person with one free hand carry things or orient a blind person towards the theater their movie is showing. But not five steps from the counter, Yara shook herself off and startled me causing my popcorn bucket to go flying . . . and I ended up having to pay for a whole new bucket. I take pride in myself for not trying to crush all the dropped popcorn on my way passed the concession stand. Sometimes I can be an adult.
What I wasn’t an adult about was the bathroom in which I was greeted by the melodious sounds of a woman screaming to her daughter several stalls away to “not sit on the toilet seat.” This would have been easily enough ignored if she weren’t occupying the only handicapped accessible stall in a bathroom with teeny stalls. This in and of itself wasn’t irksome, it was noting that upon emerging from said stall the woman was completely able-bodied. I really hate when that shit happens, especially in bathrooms where it is almost impossible for my guide dog to fit in the “regular” stalls. Now, I am not a hypochondriac nor a “germaphobe” so perhaps that is why I don’t even remotely understand that whole thing where women don’t want to sit on public toilet seats. But while I’m pretty damn sure no one is going to contract swine flu from sitting on a toilet, I can deal with the foreignness of someone feeling this necessary. Except if you’re going to be an oddball and act like a man, please for goodness sake clean up the mess you make by doing so. Especially if you’re having your monthly friend. And for crying out loud, FLUSH THE DAMN TOILET! I made quite a loud and curse-laden fuss when I discovered all that. I’m pretty sure the woman and her child were long gone, but they probably still could hear me just fine and well.
Perhaps all this is why I spent most of my workday trying to not go apeshit insane on people. Who knows.