I had to go to the bathroom. It happens.
I was at a restaurant for brunch on a weekend morning/afternoon. Brunch at a restaurant is a thing now, I guess. Maybe it always was. But a reservation was required, and the place was packed, and the place was big, and it was kind of the middle of the day, and there we all were spending our day, well, eating. It was buffet-style, which reminds you that for some of us, for some of the time at least, the American cornucopia still disgorges. Table after table piled high with vastly more than you could eat. The idea is to get your money’s worth, so you eat too much, and just to be sure take enough that there is plenty left on your plate to be thrown away. I don’t like to do that part, but lots of people, as far as I noticed, do like to do that. Does throwing away food make people feel opulent, or what? I don’t get it. Anyway, they paid for the privilege. It was expensive, or at least seemed pretty expensive to me.
Am I ever going to get to a point here? Not really. But I did see a funny thing on my way to the bathroom that illustrates how some things just never get fully worked out and they hang there in reality like an illogical thought that never gets corrected. Maybe everything is like that, now that I think about it.
Anyway maybe the restaurant had a theme and maybe it didn’t. Probably did, they all do now. And for thematic resons or otherwise, the men’s room door had a silhouette of a charging bull on it. Well you know how this works. All I could think was ‘No. Surely they did not put the silhouette of a COW on the lady’s room door.’ So I had to check on that. And I turned around and there behind me was a door with the word ‘WOMEN’ on it.
And there you have it. BULL. WOMEN. Somebody actually went to the trouble of doing it that way and decided, yes, that’s good. Make of it what you will.