A Baby is Born on New Year's Eve 1994

It was December 31st 1994 and my wife was very, very pregnant.

We were in Brantford Ontario that night, ushering in the new year at the home of some good friends, enjoying a really nice meal there, and calling it quits shortly after midnight. Our plan was to sleep at my wife's parents' house that night before enjoying our traditional New Year's Day meal with them the next afternoon.

Our eldest daughter had just turned 2 and may have been with us for dinner, or she may have stayed back with her Nonna and Nonno. My guess is that she was with us, but I just don't remember that one detail. (That's because she was absolutely the best little girl on the planet and wouldn't have been crabby or loud, wouldn't have broken anything, wouldn't have drawn attention to herself in any way, and thus didn't do anything to insert herself into the story I'm in the midst of telling.) 

It was probably 12:15 that we called it a night and left our friends' house. We, of course, got stopped by RIDE ("reduce impaired driving everywhere" - a drinking-and-driving spot check program in Ontario) and I, of course, had not been drinking because a) I didn't drink, and b) my wife was very, very pregnant and who knew when she might need me to drive her to the hospital. I made a clever comment to the RIDE officer - as I am wont to do - showed him my very pregnant wife, and he sent us on our way. He gave us the gift of an ice scraper.

We had just settled into the hide-a-bed in the basement just before 1:00, when my wife shot bolt-upright in bed, cursed lovingly at the universe, and declared that it was time to get the f@#$k to the hospital (those may not have been her exact words, but she screamed something like that). We woke her parents, asked them to stay with my eldest, and went off to Brantford General.

It was a very quiet night in the maternity ward. Only one other soon-to-be mother was there. She was a screamer - that I remember.

We got settled into a room and we were given the usual medications and instructions. We turned on the tv and started watching the Planet of the Apes marathon that they used to show every New Year's Eve on CITY. We could clearly hear the other woman deep in her labour as we attempted to enjoy our movie. At some point, my wife told me that she wanted to go for a walk to help with the labour and I told her that she could before realizing that she wanted me to go with her. I reluctantly turned off the movie and off we sauntered. 

It was then that I realized it was New Year's Eve, the hospital was mostly empty, and the only other patient was still giving birth. WE HAD A SHOT AT DELIVERING BRANTFORD'S FIRST 1995 BABY!!!

I turned to my wife and enthusiastically shared my insight, gently encouraging her to get serious and hurry up with the whole birthing thing. And she did.

We were soon in the delivery room. The other lady was very close to finished, judging from her increasingly frequent screams and whimpers. I held my wife's hand and whispered words of encouragement: "We can win this thing, but the other lady's really close. You don't want to lose to her, do you? Think of the prizes! Think of the glory! We'll probably be in the paper! You can do this but you have to hurry. You're not some kind of princess who's going to lie there and take pain medicine and wait it out, right? Push like you mean it. PUSH!" (and other inspirational and loving words like that).

Bam! The kid shot out of her and we suddenly had a second daughter (notice I didn't say "beautiful", because I remember clearly that she wasn't - not yet). More importantly, we had won! We had come from far behind and defeated our opponent! Sure, my wife had done most of the work, but let's face it, she couldn't have achieved the victory without my key contributions as coach and mentor.

I remember the nurses and doctors telling us we had just given birth to Brantford's 1995 New Year's Baby (thinking that we didn't know) and congratulating us. I remember asking if we could go back to the room and keep watching Planet of the Apes.

Later that day, the proud sister, proud grandparents (from both sides), and (I believe) some proud uncles and aunts all got a chance to meet the newest addition to our family. I will never forget my mother taking one glance at her newest grand-daughter and saying "Uh oh, you guys are in trouble with this one." 

She had put words to what everyone else had already seen but not verbalized: this tiny little girl's eyes shone with zest and passion and intelligence and humour, and more than just a hint of mischief.

Think about it: She'd chosen the splashiest night/day of the year to arrive. She'd gotten Mommy and Daddy to bend to her will despite their exhaustion, then - later - despite their desire to enjoy a good movie. And she'd beaten off the competition to come first. Sound like anyone you know?

We did get a headline in the Brantford paper but shared the spotlight with the runners-up because we weren't locals. We also got half of the prizes owed to The New Year's Baby (only half, for the same reason). But most importantly, we got a beautiful, strong, charming, smart, passionate, loving, AND HIGHLY COMPETITIVE addition to our young family.

She'll be 21 tonight. While all the rest of you are toasting 2016, we'll be singing "Happy Birthday" and thanking the universe for blessing us with this amazing person all those years ago. 

(PS - I didn't say anything about the prizes we received that day because I didn't want to insult the City of Brantford. I'll just say that they weren't nearly as good as the RIDE ice scraper.)

The 12 Days of Christmas / A Social Media Breakup

Before I begin, I want to give each of you - my loyal readers - a small token of my appreciation during this holiday season. Here you go... cuff cuff. 

(Please take the time to understand this very witty joke so I don't have to explain it to you).  

Now, without further ado, a purely fictional version of a seasonal favourite...

----

On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love texted me 2 mad emojis and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love Facebooked me 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love Tweeted me 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love LinkedIn to me 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love e-mailed me 7 viral hoaxes, a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love Tindered me with 8 leftward swipes, 7 viral hoaxes, a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love Blogged 'bout me sharing 9 shameful secrets, 8 leftward swipes, 7 viral hoaxes, a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love Instagrammed me 10 breakup photos, 9 shameful secrets, 8 leftward swipes, 7 viral hoaxes, a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love Pintrested me 11 handsome fellas, 10 breakup photos, 9 shameful secrets, 8 leftward swipes, 7 viral hoaxes, a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for no reason I could see.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love snail-mailed me my 12 Ashley Madison hacked records, 11 handsome fellas, 10 breakup photos, 9 shameful secrets, 8 leftward swipes, 7 viral hoaxes, a 6 second Vine, 5 annoying spammers, 4 #asshole hashtags, 3 mocking selfies, 2 mad emojis, and 1 second every day since she left for a reason I now see.

Pushing Buttons (a children's story)

Annie loved to push buttons.

In the car, she would push the button that made the window roll down, then the one that made it roll up, then the one that made it roll down, then the one that made it roll up...until her Daddy told her to stop doing that.

At home, they had a doorbell that she loved to push over and over again, even after the door was open and she could just go in...until her Daddy told her to stop doing that.

Annie loved to push buttons, but more than anything she loved to push her Daddy's buttons.

One of Daddy's buttons could be pushed by telling him you didn't want any french fries with your hamburger, and then asking for his. Annie loved how Daddy's neck got all scrunched up when he gave her the french fries.

One of Daddy's buttons could be pushed by telling him that he didn't hear you right. Annie loved to say something and then pretend that she didn't, then watch how his ears turned red when she said "I didn't say that. You are wrong."

One of Daddy's buttons could be pushed by calling him a "hippocrit". She saw Mommy do that once and Daddy almost exploded. Annie loved to call Daddy a "hippocrit" (even though she didn't know what one was) and make little puffs of steam come out of his ears.

One day Daddy was very worried about work. They went out for supper to a hamburger restaurant because he didn't have time to make something at home.

He asked her if she wanted french fries and Annie said "no". When they got their food, Annie asked for Daddy's french fries.

Daddy's neck didn't scrunch up, but he said "I thought I asked you if you wanted some french fries and you said 'no'." Annie said that he didn't hear her right and that he was wrong because she had said "yes".

Daddy's ears didn't turn red and he just said "oh" and then looked at something on his phone. Annie started to worry that Daddy's buttons must be broken, so she called him a "hippocrit".

No steam came out of Daddy's ears. He just looked up from his phone for a second and said "That's not what a hypocrite is, Annie" and then looked back down at his phone.

Annie started to cry because Daddy was too busy with work and his buttons weren't working. He frowned a little and said "We'd better go home." He didn't even hug her or wipe her tears.

On the way home, she made the window go down and up, down and up, down and up, down and up. Daddy didn't ask her to stop.

When they got home, Annie pushed the doorbell a bunch of times and Daddy said nothing.

Then, worst of all, Daddy put her straight into bed, gave her the smallest kiss ever, and turned off the light without even saying "Good night". He didn't even notice that she was still crying a little bit.

She heard the sound of him typing on his computer.

After a few minutes, Annie quietly got out of bed and took off her warm pyjama top and put a little t-shirt on instead. Then she threw her pyjama top on the floor.  Then she took some more clothes out of the closet and threw those on the floor too.

Then Annie got back into bed and called "Mommy! Come kiss me goodnight!"

Annie loved to push buttons.

Halloween 2015 - David's Garage Sucks!

Welcome to this year's Halloween recap. As with every year, I invite you to spend a few minutes touring the outside of my home and - of course - my garage.

Before we start, let me introduce you to this year's host, a fellow who needs no introduction...um...vampire guy! 

Now - to visit him in his living (!?!?) room, you'll first have to pass through the local cemetery. A place you may remember from last year: Deadend Cemetery.

And swing by the witches' place and say hi as you pass the twins (they may even give you some treats if you sing them a song).

And at last, you've made it. Here's the scene as you arrive, with lights and sound.

Let me show you around.

You've already met vampire guy. Now meet his sweet daughter (sad story there, attacked by zombies before becoming a vampire adult. But afterlife is afterlife I guess).

The guy in the box behind her is an old friend who came over for a meal years and years ago and never left. 

And speaking of hanging around, let's not forget vampire guy's cousin who's just getting up from a quick nap.

Look, the kids are over too. Aren't they sweet?
 

 

Unfortunately, a couple of the other kids couldn't make it this year. They may be absent, but they're not forgotten.

Since you're here already, why don't you have a look around. Get a sense of what the vampires read and watch for entertainment. And also what they eat and drink.

Thanks for stopping by! Happy Halloween!

Some Thoughts on Tim Hortons

Just a few scattered thoughts about Tim Hortons today:

• Let's start by addressing the elephant in the room: Tim Horton was a hockey player; Tim Hortons the donut shop, therefore, requires an apostrophe. The original Tim Horton Charcoal Broiled Hamburgers in North Bay used the player's name without an 's' and I'm cool with that (mind you, if it was called "Angus Beef Charcoal Broiled Hamburgers", angus beef would clearly be an ingredient, and so I'm not really cool with it at all I guess). At some point, someone decided to introduce an 's' (and add donuts, and remove burgers) and that's when things went horribly wrong. Thats my opinion. Whats yours?
• I think there's lots you can learn about ownership and management by comparing the differences between Tim Hortons franchises (now I don't know if I should be saying "Tim Horton's franchises", "Tim Hortons franchises", or "Tim Hortons' franchises" but I digress). They all have basically the same food, the same equipment, the same procedures for beverage and food preparation, and presumably more or less the same compensation model for staff. And yet, as I'm sure you've experienced - there are wild variances in the customer experience from one place to the next. It's too easy to conclude that how you're treated and how fast your order is prepared comes down to the individual staff member you're dealing with. Not true. It's the ownership/management that recruits, hires and trains those people. I blame (and praise) them. Here are three recent examples of the wildly varying experiences:

Tims #1 (or is it Tim's?) - I pull up in the drive-thru (yes, I know) and the voice on the speaker becomes a person in the window. He hands me my steeped tea. Except it's not steeped tea at all. It's coffee. I tell him. He tells me that I'm wrong and it's steeped tea - pointing at the white "ST" on the lid. I patiently remove the lid and have him (wake up and) smell the coffee. He does, then patiently informs me that it's steeped tea. I eventually have to park and go into the store to rectify the situation. No apologies - just a new cup of tea.

Tims #2 - My colleague and I enter in the early morning and the place is empty. The drive-thru lane is also empty. We order a coffee, a steeped tea, a breakfast sandwich and a toasted bagel. The server's pupils dilate. I can almost hear Homer Simpson in a meltdown at his nuclear plant:  "What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?" THEY ORDERED FOOD AND NOW I HAVE TO MAKE IT BECAUSE I'M ALL ALONE AND I CAN'T DO ALL THIS ON MY OWN!!! Thankfully, some other guy, not in uniform, walks behind the counter, pushes the server aside heroically, and makes our drinks AND our food all while shooting the original server some seriously angry glances. I think I'm seeing the manager in action.

Tims #3 - The voice on the drive-thru speaker is friendly and warm every morning: "Thank you for choosing our Tim Hortons. What can I get for you?" My order is captured without error and without requiring repetition or slowing down. At the window, I'm greeted with a smile and a "Hi!" and my food is delivered promptly and accurately. The whole team seems to have helped. They also seem to like each other (which I have found is often not the case in other Tim Hortons locations - having witnessed staff nearly coming to blows in a Tims #4 I won't talk about further). They are a well-oiled machine. I ask for half-butter on the bagel and they deliver half-butter (Tims #2 confused half-butter with three-times-the-butter). The bagel person is in a hurry to get me my food and hands it to the window person with urgency. The window person is a joy to deal with. And what's most notable is that it's the same experience but not always the same people.

As you might expect, I avoid Tims #1 and Tims #2 and go to Tims #3 ninety-nine percent of the time. I also commend Tims #3's staff all the time. But really, I should also be commending its ownership and management because what else is there in the fabric of each franchise that makes it what it is?

•  I'm too lazy to cut and paste the nutrition information here. It's also a bit of an effort to get to the nutrition information from the Tim Hortons website, and I'm feeling a bit sluggish from all the Tim Hortons bagels I've consumed over the years, even at half butter. So go look for yourself. Yuck. I will save you some time by letting you know that on their "Nutrition and Wellness" page, you'll see fresh, un-cracked eggs at the top, you'll eventually find a "Balanced Menu Options" link, and there, the 12 Grain Bagel proudly displayed first. Then the words: "Plain or toasted, buttered or slathered with cream cheese spread; everyone loves a tasty bagel." This shining example of a "balanced menu option" has 330 calories, 9 grams of fat (only 1.5 saturated), 55 carbs, and 450 mg of sodium. It isn't even clear to me whether those numbers are for a buttered bagel, plain bagel or one that is "slathered with cream cheese".
• Isn't 'slathered' a cool word? It sounds delicious and fattening while in fact containing no calories or fat. I just thought that deserved a paragraph of its own.
• So it sounds like I'm an idiot for going to Tim Hortons regularly (which, if true, would mean that most of my fellow Canadians are too). I defend the fact that I do go there as follows:

A) It feels like a patriotic duty (to buy from Burger King) 

B) It's so damn convenient (except when it's not) 

C) Sometimes, they have roll-up-the-rim and that's fun.

I will also tell you that I NEVER get donuts (haven't had one - not even a timbit) since reading all about donut nutrition when Krispy Kreme tried to enter the market and suddenly donuts weren't healthy, I go to Tims #3 almost exclusively, and I always order - when I need some food in the wee hours of the morning - a cinnamon raisin bagel with half-butter (which, if you check, you'll see isn't nearly as bad as the 12 grain). So I'm an idiot, but an idiot who slathers his food with half the butter AND an idiot who at least tries to get the apostrophe's right.

David Does Deep

My new car comes with a temporary free subscription to SiriusXM (satellite radio). Amongst other listening delights, the 6 year old and I have been using it to surf up and down between the 50's on 5, 60's on 6, 70's on 7, 80's on 8, 90's on 9, and Pop2K on 10 (the latter name because we never did bother to come up with a good label for that decade).

She's been getting pretty good at guessing which decade we're listening to based on one or two songs, which tells you that either each decade really does have a sound, or that the programmers for the various stations certainly have a preferred sound for their respective decades.

She's even taken a stab at characterizing the sound for me - but only got as far as "The 50's sounds like the music is being played in a barn", "The 70's is all happy and active", and "The 90's sounds like it's in a music class and they're still practicing." (I really pushed her to describe the other decades as well because I thought that would make for a really cool post, but she got bored and started to talk about penises and vaginas instead - as she is wont to do).

Of course, as we were listening she was also curious about whether she was alive then, I was alive then, her big sisters were alive then, Grampa was alive then, etc. (She also asked me last week, by the way, if Grampa and Gramma were alive for Ancient Egypt. I told her yes. And then she told me that she doesn't like Egypt because they're all slaves and she doesn't like slaves. At which point I turned the conversation back to penises and vaginas.)

Anyhoo...at one point on 70's on 7 Kasey Casem's American Top 40 from some time in 1970 was playing (the 6 year old no longer in the car with me), and between songs Kasey explained how the top 40 list is based on record sales from 100 stores from across the country. 

Whoa. Talk about a stark reminder of how things used to be.

Of course there was a sound back then - because there were stores and radio stations and people like Casey Kasem who made sure there was a sound based on what they stocked in store, what they played, and what they told people to listen to. And there weren't other ways to access music, except going to concerts or making it yourself.

The same, of course, was going on in television and the movies. A very finite set of delivery channels that everybody accessed together, which meant watching the same things at the same time - together - and being able to talk about it the very next day because a) you had seen it, or b) you would basically never be able to see it. Which meant NOT MISSING IT in the first place.

Entertainment was a collective thing. We watched together and listened together and experienced together - all at the same time, in unison. Coke could "teach the world to sing", literally, by placing a great ad in precisely the right places at precisely the right times.

Now look at us. It's no accident that starting with 90's on 9 and Pop2K on 10, there isn't really a defining sound. Nor are there generational TV shows anymore. Or if there are, we won't all have finished watching them until ten years after the decade is over. (I forget who I was talking to a few days ago, but this person was raving about how great Breaking Bad is/was, as if it just went off the air this past weekend). 

Sure, there is content that goes viral still, grabbing an audience despite the diffuse noise all around it, and usually doing so for clusters of demographically homogeneous sub-audiences or "communities" with which it strikes a chord. And there are still movie events that come along, sending large numbers of people out to see the same thing in theatre all at pretty much the same time. But even those community-crossing film events hit mainly the moviegoers (a cross-cutting community) and not the rest of us who are stuck at home with kids or unable or unwilling to go out for some other reason. And more and more, even those events are looking like they'll go straight to an online content provider like Netflix sometimes, or they're getting stolen and watched online before leaving theatres...

But how often is there real convergence for everybody on something they all care about all at the same time? Something that transcends diverse communities? I MISS THAT. I think we all do.

Did you see how Toronto, its surrounding neighbourhoods, and the rest of Canada (or so we're told) came together for the Blue Jays? Wasn't that amazing? Didn't it feel like something we really, really needed? 

Did you see how the recent Federal election got people all talking about the same things all at the same time? No matter how you feel about the outcome, wasn't that amazing? 

I strongly believe we need unifying moments more than ever. And unifying themes. And unifying purposes. Whether they emerge from entertainment, or sport, or politics or events in the news - they help define us and our time. We'll always have our separate communities of interest, but our bigger, foundational communities need reinforcing from time to time as well: our neighbourhoods; our cities; our countries. And not in ways that prop up those communities by excluding others - because that works too. The events and themes and purposes I'm talking about connect communities to other communities, as well, in a shared experience that brings everybody together.

We are becoming ever more connected like cells in a network. We have access to an ever increasing amount of content. We have a tremendous amount of personal control over what we consume. The choices about how and where we direct our attention seem endless. Our natural course seems to be to gratify our individual wants because we can. Yet we can't forget about the containers that need to be in place to hold everything together; the networks we need to hold the networks together; or the gravity we need to keep us in orbit around the same things.

Sure, the container might have been too confining before; the gravity may have weighed us down too much. And now we have networks in place and communities of interest that allow us to explore things with others who are like us: Lots of freedom; loads of access; tons of control. But let's not lose sight of the value and importance and reality of our bigger communities. Our collective identities that should - from time to time - take precedent over our individual and sub-community interests.

If you listen for a while to 60's on 6, you'll hear not just a common sound, but a consistent and common purpose. Love. Harmony. Fixing the world. Hokey, right? Quaint, right? Naive, right? It's so unfamiliar now to hear such a coherent and shared focus from a generation. And so easy to laugh it off.

But I wonder...Will my 6 year old's generation rally together to save the world? Or will they have individual and diffuse existences without a shared purpose that defines them? What could they do if they collectively decided to fix something? How much could they accomplish, that no previous generation was able to, precisely because they have the freedom and access and control and authority and smarts that no previous generation had? Could you imagine what they could do if they can find the will and set their minds - collectively - to accomplish something really big for their city, their country, or the world? And can you imagine the damage they could do if they rally around the wrong things?

I don't have any suggestions beyond sharing these rambling thoughts and doing my best with my 6 year old. Maybe her daughter one day will hear about something really magical that happened to fix everything and ask her if she was alive for that. And maybe her answer will be that not only was she alive for it, she (and everyone else) made it happen together. Because they decided to and because they could.

Wouldn't that be amazing?

What are you doing on the toilet? (A personality test)

Okay. Sometimes you need to take a break from what's going on in your external environment (sports, politics, a steady stream of depressing news) to reflect on your internal environment. Sometimes you need to ask the hard questions about yourself, even if those questions are tasteless and awkward to ask. With that said, I now invite you to spend some time with me, exploring how you're using your most private time of all, and what that has to say about who you are.

(For sophisticated readers, stop reading now. For even more sophisticated readers, rest assured that all of the puns you come across below are intended, even if they're not).

------

What are you doing on the toilet?

Context for the test: We have more choices than ever about how to use those times when we are stuck on the toilet (not stuck in a literal sense, of course, but stuck in that we have no choice but to be there - I refuse to get more specific than that). What do your choices say about your personality? Sit back, relax, and take this test to find out.

For the most accurate results, choose the option that best fits your usual experience. All answers and results will remain anonymous.

Question 1: How long are you there?

A) Absolutely the minimal amount of time I need to be.
B) The minimal amount of time, unless whatever else I'm doing holds me there for a bit longer.
C) As long as I can get safely away with.
D) Much longer than I should be.

Question 2: How do you prepare?

A) Each and every time, I am in by necessity and out asap - so I go in strictly "as is".
B) I will sometimes grab my device or something else to do if I expect a long visit.
C) I usually make sure I've got something to do, and my bathroom at home always offers options.
D) I will not sit down until I know how else I will keep busy (even if that means cutting it close).

Question 3: Will you connect with others whilst seated?

A) Absolutely not. That's disgusting.
B) Only if I've got my device and only inbound text or e-mail.
C) Yes, when someone reaches out to me on an important matter once I'm committed.
D) For sure. But I go on mute during moments that might be noticed. Or not.

Question 4: What's your distraction of choice?

A) Quiet reflection.

B) A good book (but not The Good Book), magazine, newspaper, or crossword puzzle.

C) Netflix, YouTube, Facebook, a good game, a good playlist or some other go-anywhere social media or entertainment source.

D) All of the above plus anything else I would do anywhere else (with my pants around my ankles).

Question 5: Which statement best describes your perspective on toilet time?

A) It's a necessary evil.

B) I'm cool with it, but it's a private experience for each of us and should be treated as such.

C) I must admit that I look forward to it a bit and sometimes go there when I don't have to.

D) It's often the best part of my day.

Question 6: What about public toilets?

A) Public toilets are strictly a last resort.
B) If the bathrooms are clean, I don't mind being there as long as no one else is in there to hear me.
C) I treat them pretty much like the home one, but I like to have headphones in so I don't hear what's going on around me.
D) Any time. Any place. No difference to me.

Question 7: Your phone rings while in a public bathroom stall. What do you do?

A) That could never happen.
B) I quickly decline the call and text that I'll call back.
C) I answer, speak in a low voice (but not too low), and get off the phone as quickly as possible.
D) I answer the call and have a perfectly normal conversation.

Question 8: Which phrase best describes your personality (with or without respect to what goes on when you're on the toilet)?

A) I'm introverted, repressed, too proper to even take this quiz, I feel a little bit superior to anyone who would choose anything but A) on this question and far superior to anyone who would write a quiz like this. I am old, and feel older inside.

B) Toilet talk embarrasses me, but I try to be open to new things. I am sociable and polite. I am empathetic, intelligent and giving. Life-long learning is important to me.

C) I am a fully actualized person with few hang ups. My social status matters a lot to me. I am a good leader when I have to be, and a good team-mate always. Look out world, here I come!

D) I am boorish, slovenly, loud, and socially backward in many other ways. I am also fun-loving and live life with gusto. Some people like me. Some people don't like me and to hell with them.

Assessment

Give yourself 1 point for every A) answer, 2 for every B) answer, 3 for every C) answer and 100 for every D) answer. If your score is...

<10      You took this quiz despite how you feel about it. Interesting. 

10-16   You are evolved and have a strong sense of self. Or you lied.

17-24   Your attitude towards the bathroom is what most people would consider normal.

25-200 You walk a fine line between socially acceptable and not. Careful about your one D) answer.

>200    Somebody should have told you long ago to reel it in. If you're wondering why people give you funny looks all the time, wonder no more.

Total your score for questions 1-7 and divide by 7. If your resulting score is...

1.00-1.99    Your answer to question 8 should have been A) or B). If it wasn't, you wanna be cooler than you are. Wake up!
2.00-3.00    Your answer to question 8 should have been B) or C) and it probably was.
3.00-100     Your answer to question 8 should have been D). If it wasn't, think again.