“Sir! Those there are the showers. Sir, there are no restrooms there!”
He awkwardly shifts his weight so the baby he’s holding doesn’t get any second hand cigarette smoke. The woman before him is probably younger than him but her tobacco stained hair, skin and teeth aged her considerably. The baby cries. He looks back over his shoulder at the pristine shower stalls and sighs, knowing the answer to his question before asking.
“Where’s your diaper changing station?”
“Sir, we don’t have none of that here, Sir. The restrooms are over there.”
They do things differently down south. Like smoking in the common area, people-be-darned. She nods to herself, putting a Yankee straight, and heads back behind the counter to ‘work’.
“You know,” says his Sister In Law “You should just change her right there.”
He looks at the chair where the woman was smoking and honestly considers it. After all, you put crap in my lungs, I can put crap on your chair. He chuckles at the pun and decides to change the baby in the car.
2 responses to “Ch-Ch-Changes”
Thank you for posting these updates. I’ve gotten like 80 IMs from concerned friends and former coworkers asking me your whereabouts this week. Now I’ll have stories instead of, “Uh, I think he went to FL he said something about an oil change…” :)
That sucks that they still allow smoking down there, especially around babies. I’m glad NY air is now fresh and clean. ;)
The updates got up by chance. I was writing all these things fully expecting not to be able to post anything for the week and then, one day, I was outside typing and hopped onto someone’s unsecured wireless network. Rock, rock on.