I have a hard time working apart from the hum of human activity, which is why I’m writing from my favorite coffee house. This is an advantage, in that it negates the need for an office and a receptionist. This is a disadvantage, in that it comes with semi-frequent interruptions from faces I can’t place and names I can’t recall.
The position of my favorite table at Bongo Java is, admittedly, awkward. It’s the last table in a narrow, back hallway; and it sits just outside the seldom-used unisex bathroom. This is only a problem during peak traffic. The more popular and easily accessible front bathroom (a one-seater) gets occupied, causing Those Seeking Relief to wander toward the three-tabled annex, where they encounter the other door marked “restroom” and assume that, because I’m sitting at the table to its left, I must be the Troll That Guards The Secret Toilet.
I lower my head and type like crazy, hoping they won’t ask me if anyone’s in there. They take the hint and check the door for themselves. If it’s open, everything proceeds the way nature intended. If it’s locked, I feel the cold stare of their silent disapproval wanting to scream, “Hey! Troll who’s correcting the Steve Taylor Wikipedia page! Why didn’t you tell me there’s someone in the can?!”
But they don’t, because they’re too busy deciding whether to wait and risk looking desperate, or pretend like they really didn’t need to go in the first place. Most choose the latter, but approximately one in five choose to wait. And among the waiters, approximately one in ten recognize The Troll.
PERSON SEEKING RELIEF: Hey, Steve.
STEVE (looking up): Hey…
Steve smiles broadly to mask the fact that he neither recognizes the face nor recalls the name.
PSR: What are you working on these days?
STEVE: Have you heard of the book “Blue Like Jazz?”
PSR: I LOVE that book! It changed my life!
STEVE: Yeah? Well, I’m doing a movie of it.
At this point, the Person Seeking Relief deftly picks one of three possible responses:
PSR: Wow! That’s exciting! I’ll be there opening weekend! Would you happen to have Don Miller’s private email address?
or…
PSR (after an uncomfortable pause): Hmm. Well… if anyone can pull that off, it’s… you, I guess. Do you have Don Miller’s email?
or…
PSR (checking for dilation of my pupils): That’s great, Steve. You always reach for goals that are just beyond your reach, eh? Well don’t let me interrupt your “pre-production,” and maybe when I’m back here in five years and you’re still the Bongo Restroom Sentinel – assuming mandatory retirement hasn’t kicked in – you can let me know if there’s anybody in the friggin’ crapper. I bid you good day, sir.
Don’t fret, that’s much the way that Scorcese started out. He was handing out paper towels in the men’s room at Sardi’s, when a young Robert DeNiro came in to relieve himself. Scorcese asked if he would like a paper towel to which DeNiro responded, “You Talkin’ to ME??” The rest is history. Or not.
BTW-do you have Don Miller’s E mail address?
Steve – put out a little tip jar and see what happens.
maybe attach a sign on top of your head, so that when someone wishes to use the bathroom, can pull a lever causing the sign on your head to change to red with “occupied” written on it or green with “vacant” when they are done, then place your tip jar like carmen said…lol…as if you have don millers private email
I love your sense of humor! Seriously, though, my husband and I are crazy excited about this movie, and we’re praying hard that you guys get the funds you need and perfect actors to play the roles! We have big plans to make it rich some day by opening a Qdoba here in Blacksburg, VA, but until then I’m afraid we can’t send you guys thousands of dollars for the movie. Still, it’s the thought that counts, right?
Thanks for posting blogs, by the way. We really enjoy reading them!
I like the tip jar idea. Put it in front of the bathroom door. The too-cheap-to-tip people will be inclined to hold it and save you the need to converse. For the others, you could always sell them Don’s private email address. I can’t think of an easier or more lucrative fund raiser.
Deniro/Sardi’s – all things I didn’t know.
Tip Jar/Forehead signage – all things I’m willing to consider.
Expanding the Qdoba franchise – When you open, I would like the honor of buying the first meal so I can get my dollar bill framed.
Next time pretend to be the Toilet Troll and speak
“He who wishes to relieve himself must answer me these questions three!
What is the capital of Assyria?
What is the velocity of an unladen swallow?
What color is jazz?
lol why is it blue like jazz? is donald miller a part of the crips?
I see now, this is all some sort of foreshadowing and your recollection is a hazy, straight black, mocha dream (without the pretzels and dull white paper hat)… I feel a sense of peace as I realise that there isn’t anyone asking to use the toilet. It’s just a metaphor about the concept of forgiveness in a multi-tasking oblivious society. (without the pretzels and dull white paper hat).
I too are very encouraged to watch this trip and process come about. I hope that you enjoy this as much as you seem to be, and that something not-totally unexpected comes out of this.
Steve, These are the confines from which you have chosen to create. You need your space…and you’re suppose to respect THEIR privacy? Troll up! Carry on with your work while clutching the four roles of Charman on your table as they approach. Expresso exodus! When did Don Miller get e mail?
You could always fein insanity and boldly declare that you are an axe murderer.
I sure hope you edit these comments for spleling.
I always thought you were troll-like, “now the truth can be told”. Keep up the good work and I can’t wait for the movie!