However, there was one memorable occasion, when I was no more than ten years old, when I had to make a decision on my own. It wasn't the right decision, mind you, but it was a decision.
Be decisive. Right or wrong, make a decision. The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn't make up their minds.
You have to understand, where we grew up, lots of people hung out in bars. It was like... a hobby. Well, it just so happens that my parents, aunts and uncles happened to enjoy this particular hobby very much, and we kids... some of my cousins and I... were often given the choice to go with them. Oh, it wasn't so bad. Some of the places were located on the waterfront, so we kids were allowed to go out on the pier to fish, crab, or just dangle our feet in the water. We got to dance in some of the places, sing in some of the others, played lots of shuffleboard and pinball machines, ate all kinds of barroom junk food, and there was always a copious amount of either Yoo Hoo or Squirt to guzzle throughout the day. Which is what led to my momentous decision one Sunday afternoon.
As anyone knows, what goes in must come out, and after numerous bottles of Yoo Hoo, something most definitely wanted to come out. I was directed to go through the back room, past the dance floor, and I'd find the rest rooms against the back wall. Yep, I did all that, and there they were. The problem was, I didn't know which one to use. See, instead of the helpful men and women signs to which I was accustomed, this bar tried to be clever. So there I stood, in considerable discomfort, dancing back and forth from foot to foot, while trying to choose between the two doors, each of which bore a picture of a dog. Yeah, a dog. I kid you not. One was an Irish setter, and the other, a pointer. Yeah, yeah, I know what it means now, but it was a very important and difficult decision for a little girl in serious danger of wetting her pants.
Matz's maxim: A conclusion is the place where you get tired of thinking.
So I just picked one. Didn't even go eenie, meenie. Just yanked open the pointer door and ran in. When I got back to the table, I told everybody about the bathrooms, and said I thought I might have picked the wrong one... because there was a cigar butt lying on the floor.
Trust me, the family teased me about that for years.
With all of the hoopla that's been in the news for the past few months about who can use which bathroom, I got to thinking about those ambiguous toilet signs from so long ago. (Ambiguous to me, anyway.) As it turns out, there are a lot of clever toilet signs to be found these days, and I'm guessing they'd be just as confusing to a ten-year old today as those dog signs were to me back then. But... some of these signs really are clever. Wanta see? (As if you had a choice... HA!)
I'm considerably older than ten now, but that last one is still a bit confusing. Can you imagine a couple of gals chatting as they walked to the rest room together... blah, blah, blah, blah, etc... and just seeing the word women? Tricky, tricky, tricky.
For some reason, I suddenly have the urge to...
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.