just strange...

I'm supposed to be working tonight but I just don't have the motivation.  I have these moments, as I'm sure you do to.  Hell, we all do.  But until today, i've never seen the apparent disregard, if that is the appropriate word, that I witnessed today.

Today I was out of the factory floor.  Its a rocket factory, so there is an inordinate amount of bright souls in the place.  Most of the scientist/engineer types stay up front in the cube farm unless they have a live project rolling.  The techs, machinists and mechanics, some of the sharpest in the industry, they own the floor.  The managers think they run it, but those tech types are the ones who make shit work out of the dream the rocket scientists put to paper.

The one place they all congregate is the men's pisser.  There isn't one up front, so the cube dwellers are forced to come out on the floor.  I personally think it is a motivational walk, or should be.  I walk out to the pisser from my cube (I live in the gray area between nerd and wrench) and get fired up.  It's like remembering why we're here.  It's bitchin- I walk out to take a whiz and BAM! There's a fucking ROCKET right THERE!  Even when you'e in a bad mood, BAM!  I mean, come on.  Who wouldn't get fired up.

The best part is, I'm going to meet my best friend AND I get to see rockets?  I must have done something right. 

See, when I go take a whiz, I'm a happy guy.  Even if it's at home.  I get to handle my junk with no social stigma, get blessed release of urination, and honestly do one of the most male functions known to humankind.  I'm a pointer, not a sitter.  I'm a proud pointer, at that.

I don't sing and dance while I do it- well, I don't dance, but I'll hum my ass off at times.  I mean, the conversations don't usually stop in the factory just because there a piss going on.  Man Law is upheld, spacing is respected, but if we're talking shop or whatnot, the guys still chat.  Usually louder and cruder because there are no women about to snivel about our choice of topic.  It's like the locker room of yore- we're manly men, building rockets and handling our tools.  Even the scientist types get loud and manly.   There's always quiet moments, but the men in factory give the homey nod as they pass each other.  It's a fraternity.

So today about 2:30, the lethargy of lunch has worn off, the earliest of workers are headed home and activity is picking up a bit.  I stroll into the pisser, pass the wash station troughs (where only one engineering intern peed this year) and around the corner to the urinals.  There is a wall that hangs behind the troughs that has one purpose, to hold our beloved pisspots.  As I round the corner, there is an engineer type leaning against the wall, nearly on the side of it.

What fascinated me was that the guy was on the side of it AND in front of it.  He was damn near in it, head on the wall.  He was kicked over, and I nearly ran into his back.  He was mumbling and looking down, the whole time with the side of his head on the wall.  He was tall, but he was slumped over so far I thought he might have his balls on the rim.  Pretty much a downer, I thought he might be whacked out on something. 

I finish my business and the guy is still there.  I can't tell if he's pissing or not.  I'm moderately creeped out at his lack of enthusiasm at handling his manhood.  He must have some serious issues.

So I walked out singing.

"Iiiiiit's a Small World, aaaafter aalllll, It's a SMALLSMALL WOOOOORRRLD!"