At a recent dinner with a co-revolutionary, Comrade X found this sign in the restaurant's bathroom. Now, this restaurant is by no means sympathetic to the Revolution, and in fact Comrade X was there merely to find ways to exploit its weaknesses and perhaps find ways to appropriate its resources, when, after a large amount of beer (which, of course, is the preferred drink of the proletariat, along with vodka, bourbon, tequila, ouzo, schnapps, gin, vermouth, Campari, malt liquor, Sterno, Mad Dog 20-20, Manischewitz, moonshine, Boone's Farm, Carlo Rossi box wine, Robitussin, etc.), Comrade X found it necessary to exploit the weaknesses of this establishment through its restroom, and so, upon entering, he shut the door, turned around, and saw this sign.
Ha! Comrade X imagined the scenario: some stupid vacuous rich snotty cliquish slut of a sorority girl (because no man would pass out in a men's room, ever, under any circumstances -- and if he did, his friends, equally drunk, would merely come and smash the door in and drag him out and make him drink more until he either died of alcohol poisoning or they got tired of the game and went in search of even drunker women), after too may Fuzzy Navels and Sex on the Beaches and other stupid concoctions designed specifically for the sexually repressed Bourgeoisie, locked herself in the bathroom (the WRONG bathroom, because she was in the men's room, but, to give her credit, it is impossible anymore to determine which is the men's room and which the women's when the signs are composed of impossible-to-decipher glyphs or other symbols. The men's room at this place, for instance, had what appeared to be a merman, and the women's room, I suppose, as I did not check, had a mermaid [though it could just as easily have been a top hat], but in a plastic cut-out, in a dark hallway, after a lot of beer, who can tell? One restaurant in town goes so far as to label their different restrooms "hops" and "barley." Now how the fuck are you supposed to know which is which?), passed out due to her inability to hold her liquor (STUPID BOURGEOIS PIECE OF SHIT!), and when her overly-made-up-and-always-completely-overdressed friends informed the staff of their drunken retarded friend's long-overdue return, some poor worker had to crawl THROUGH THE ROOF to get into the MEN'S ROOM and open the door and have the stupid bitch dragged out.
I ask you: what is the moral of this story?
Comrade X was just reminded by Comrade E that this sign was actually taped to the ceiling of the restroom, apparently in the hopes that those who fall down drunk on the floor will see it and read it BEFORE they pass out. But it seems that it would be too late at that point. Good intention, poorly thought out.
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