Rule Número Dos

While I was at it today, I remembered the last time that it happened and a smile came to my face. I remembered myself, many-many years ago doing exactly what I did today, not knowing and not even imaging what the future would bring to me. Back in those days, I didn't even know there was a future and a present, and the known past was so recent that it was almost blurry. Back in those days I didn't even know that there was something called South America or China; didn't know either that the fundamental differences between boys and girls is what makes the world turn; and had no idea what Beer was. That's how young I was the last time it happened.

But I remember like if it was yesterday when it happened. I even remember what I was wearing: my school's uniform! I was around seven years old and I was maybe in second grade, or perhaps first grade; I even remember that I cried!

Today, March 8th 2006 I broke a rule in my life that I've had ever since I can remember. A rule that had been with me through elementary school, middle school, high school, college, graduate school, and that I even took with me to a language institute in another continent [Asia]! A rule that in all honesty had been easy to follow, but that there'd been times that was so fucking hard to follow it that I thought I was gona give up. There was times when I thought that I was not gona be able to follow it, but somehow I manage not to break it. In an extreme case I could've die, very extreme case, but thanks God I made all the way to my fifties in one piece and with that rule unbroken. And that was a rule that I even took with me through a whole variety of jobs and positions in different companies and countries, and that I never EVER broke.
Until today.


Actually when I was in third grade [around nine years old] I remember that I broke that rule but at the same I didn't break it. It's like technically I did break it, but once you know the facts you'll see that it was an extreme case and that it wasn't actually an infringement of the regulation. And just as in criminal law, it has to be proven beyond reasonable doubt that I had the intention of doing it, and the truth of the matter is that it got out of my hands. Otherwise I would've not do it. Hell no! that was a fucking accident and I still remember very vividly that moment; shit, you must be kidding me if you think that I did it on purpose!
But today that rule was broken.

Ladies and Gentleman of the jury: I confess that today I Number Two at work. . . and that is not a pleasant experience, let me tell you dat!

The last time I Number Two at school was back in the days when I was a poor little boy and I tried very hard not to do it, but couldn't. When I came back home that day I remember that I cried to my mom because that bathroom was smelling like shit [duh!] and because I couldn't wait to come back home. "That's ok" -was what my mom said and send me out to play with some friends from the block. But it was not ok, because for me there was only one universe when it came to Number Two: my very own bathroom! A bit more than a year later I was playing with some friends during break and I laughed so hard, I mean my friends, picture a red headed 9-year old boy laughing at the top of his lounges and multiply that ten times and that was me laughing and running and playing and I end up Number Two-ing in my pants. Oh, shit! That stuff can cut your laugh immediately; like being in a sauna and jumping right into an ice cold swimming pool. Good God, and the worst thing is that I still had a couple more hours to go before heading back home. . . talk about a long day before catching my school bus back home and those last two hours. But that was unintended, so I never count it as an actual "Number Two".

Today it wasn't really a matter of life and death, but it was a matter of getting rid of something that was bugging me. I could've waited, but I lost my patience and decided to give up to my body's own crazy clock and headed for the WC to meet my fate.

I went to the one closest to the main entrance that doesn't get too much traffic [good thing that I pay attention to details such as how busy restrooms are], and locked myself in the spacious boot reserved for the handicap. I'd never felt that bathroom so cold and quite as I did today, never paid attention to the white tile I'd stepped on so many times, never really took the time to detail the false ceiling, and I'd never paid attention of how much echo the company's bathrooms have! Not to mention how stoopid those automatic laser flushers can be; it's like if you can't convince those laser sensors that you're still there but that you're just shifting your weight from one side to the other, then it will almost flush you together with all the air in the restroom. And how about trying to convince them that time has come to do what they're intended to do?

But above all it wasn't an extremely traumatic experience, or at least I don't expect it to be the last nail in the coffin of my mental health going awry; it must've pushed me an inch closer to the straight jacket but I still can't see it without wearing my glasses, which is a good sign.

The only thing that I really didn't like about today's experience and the whole breaking of this larger than life rule, is that I didn't have my Calvin and Hobbes book or my FHM Magazine by me!