Crying 'cause it's not my fault
Water through my lashes look just like Christmas lights
And I still remember, remember
With yesterday being the first real day of spring (aka: the day the hotties come back from “hot girl camp”) I thought I would share one of my most unforgettable spring days (much like yesterday).
Twas the spring of ‘03 and I was walking back to the hizzy from School. I was going to the U of M at the time on the St. Paul campus and I had to do a bit of walking from the bus stop to my current place of residence. This particular day was fantastic; all the hotties were back from camp, everyone was outside, and you just couldn’t help but to spend your time outside.
I was walking over the bridge on 5th St. walking towards the Bierman building, the main sports administration building for the U of M. I was living it up as I slyly held my jacket behind my shoulder and listening to my minidisk player with the Jackson 5 playing (or something). Nothing could be more right on a day like today.
As I’m walking along the Bierman building I notice a decently dressed man step outside. He was wearing khakis with a nice polo shirt and his hair was slicked back. I figured he stepped outside for a heater or to simply enjoy the nice fresh air. I didn’t think anything of the guy at all except he was a bit agitated at my presence for some reason. I just ignored his creepy aura and continued on with Dancin’ Machine.
I checked back again due to my own curiosity and he was still eyeing me up. What the hell does he want? Is he gay? Does he need me to take a test for a hockey player? Does he need a urine sample from me? Did a student rape a stripper and he now needs a semen sample?
I just couldn’t figure it out and he was really cramping my style so ignored him for a bit longer. This time I tried to think happy thoughts and say “LA LA LA LA” as I tried to counter all the “WTF?” thoughts I had.
I made the turn around the corner and I just had to look back again. From what I could see was that well dressed man frantically looking around in the other direction and a wall with dripping liquid from where he was just standing. I then saw the guy zip-up and casually walk back inside the Bierman building.
The guy just wazzed on the side of the building! He was waiting for me to pass by so he could take a piss on the side of the building!
I stood there stunned. I just could not believe it. What if a recruit witnessed that? What if some important alumni booster drove by?
Orron: Hey Margie, I’m going to see how my old pal Glen Mason is doing so we’ll have to stop a cash machine so I can--Is that guy urinating on the side of the Bierman Building?
Margie: Orron! There’s no way a man dressed like that--Oh my god, he is indeed urinating on the side of the Bierman building.
Perhaps they don’t have bathrooms inside or Dan Monson stunk it up or something. Perhaps Sid Hartman was in the bathroom with Glen Mason. I have no idea.
So yeah, that is my favorite springtime memory.