I noticed something hanging in the stall the other day while I was sitting in the bathroom. There was a piece of paper labeled: “The Stall Street Times.” Basically it was a flyer telling me all about how bad alcohol is and how it’s screwed just about everyone over in our age group. This flyer might have been exclusive to Milner, but I doubt it, so I’m sure many of you know what I’m talking about.
The subject matter of the flier could have been anything. That wasn’t important to me at all, and I would thoroughly enjoy reading it. There’s something about reading while sitting on the john that is very satisfying. What is being read is by far the least important thing in this process. It is simply the fact that reading is taking place in such a comfortable spot.
Reading while eating a bowl of cereal is just as satisfying. I’ve found myself reading every last word on the back of a cereal box. I’ve read about countless “free” offers with “proof-of-purchase,” toys that I’m far too old for, and nutritional facts that continue to go over my head. But again, it doesn’t matter. I continue to read these over and over again. Reading during these mindless activities is incredibly relaxing and fulfilling.
So ladies and gentlemen, I dedicate this column to all of you sitting on the pot or eating your cereal while you read this paper.
As we all know, it’s not like what I’m writing right now has anything important to say. How much of anything I write is ever important? This is actually the reason why I named the column “Notes from the Underground.” Not as some cheap reference to a section of Founders, but as a cheap reference to Dostoevsky’s novella.
Much like the Underground Man, with whom I identify so eagerly, I take no heed to the content of what I’m writing. I’m well aware of the fact that in the long run, this is useless and even somewhat pathetic, but that’s okay. I’m comfortable with this fact. At least I can admit it, right? And admittance is the first step in recovery, or just the first step to whining too much. I guess it all depends on your perspective.
If this column ever gets published, maybe someone will find it incredibly ironic and witty enough to hang in a bathroom stall or tape to the back of a cereal box. But then you have to ask yourself the question of who is more pathetic – the guy who wrote this article or the guy who hung it up? And would it be most pathetic of all if both of those guys were me?
I’ll have to keep that in mind as I read over these last few lines for the fifth time, sitting in the bathroom, smiling to myself, and snickering at how incredibly ironic and witty I am.