You’ve had several beers and, because Tom Petty has launched into “Don’t Come Around Here No More,” you’ve decided to hold off your very, very necessary men’s room run. With the song over, you dash there, only to discover that the queue is very, very long. You get that moment of panic. You start eyeing nearby bushes and crannies. But then your realize that the line, maybe 50 yards long, is moving rather briskly. Twenty-five yards to go and you start thinking, “I just might make it.” Within a few minutes, you’re inside the hallowed walls. You can hear the flushes and the chatter, smell that men’s room smell. It smells good — because it means you’re close. There are rows and rows of urinals, and men filing orderly by like in some futuristic movie about clones. You reach porcelain and let it go. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh… Ahhhhhhhh. You don’t know exactly how or why the line moved so quickly, but you are grateful and, in some way, you are astonished. You stop for another beer on the way back to your seat. 4802 U.S. 301 N., Tampa, 813-740-2446, www.fordamp.com.
This article appears in Sep 14-20, 2005.