Waiting in Vain

I have never been able to stay quiet for very long and as hard as I try to meditate, for whatever reason the theme song to Mr. Belvedere always plays in my head.

So you can imagine my utter delight when I had the opportunity to go to the Montserrat Monastery just outside of Barcelona, Spain where I would be forced to be silenced by the pressure of silence itself.

Listening to the Gregorian chanting monks whilst staring at the Black Madonna a wave of calm washed over me and as I started really listening to my inner being I realized it was telling me I had to go pee real, real bad.

Classic Calvyn; I could be at a dinner party with Jesus Christ himself and in the middle of him clarifying the importance of fleas, my bladder would be forcing me to rudely leave the table.  Not that I think Jesus would mind at all, I mean he did create me so he must know that my bladder flows often, but it is just highly inconvenient. 

As the rush came over me, I was desperate to find the water closet, I couldn’t very well ask anyone as they were all listening to the chant and the odd monk I saw, I couldn’t ask as they spoke no English, or they had taken a vow of silence themselves. I guess I could have charade it out; however I was not ballsy enough to stand in front of a random silent monk, cross my legs, put my hands over my area, bob up and down, and have a grimace on my face. I just could not do it.

Passing by a water fountain, I did take a split second to see if anyone was watching, but then my conscious took the best of me, and I thought it could be holy water.

In the meantime I could hear the Gregorian chant crescendo and I was very irritated that I could not fully envelope myself in the sanctity of the experience. 

In the end I ended up looking at a random statue of a man dressed in armour. He was pointing to the left, and so I took his advice and veered left where I saw a woman’s water closet but no mens. I went in. Meh… what is the worst that could happen. Thank goodness it was empty to begin with.

Because my head was sticking up over the stalls, I had to sit to pee, not such a big deal at all, but then the Gregorian chant let out, and all of the sudden this one deserted, desolate water closet was full to the brink. I was stuck in the stall. I had no moves. I had to stay in the center stall for the entirety of the line. I could not imagine, nor did I want to imagine what people were thinking about the “woman” in the center stall. It is amazing what pops in your head waiting in a bathroom stall for 45 minutes:

Thank you for being a friend

Down the road and back again

Your heart is true

You’re a pal and a confident.

And if you threw a party,

Invited everyone you knew,

You would see the biggest gift would be from me

And the card attached would say

Thank you for being a friend.