Cop takes back airport restroom

by Eric Haley

Another week, another political scandal. This one needs no introduction and I will save the obvious comedic route for the big boys like Robin Williams and Carrot Top. And besides, its hard to conjur cynicism at such a time of National celebration, LET FREEDOM RING AMERICA!
Through brave undercover operations involving strategic toilet stall monitoring and one cop who risked his life to portray the shins and feet of the criminal element, the police have taken back our (as in, We the people) Air port public restrooms, let’s dance!
Do you remember the days when the Air port public restrooms were a haven for strangers of the same sex to unwind and let their kids play after a long flight? Boy, I sure can. I remember being giddy with excitement when the Captain announced our decent into “Who gives a damnville” ( I couldn’t be bothered with questions of destination, I had visions of urinal cakes dancing in my head).
“Father, tell me, tell me, is the men’s room at this air port swell?”
“Son, when I was a boy, this was the best Air port restroom ever. Urinals short and tall, lined the walls in the Grown up’s “new arrival meet and greet” area, and there were stalls as far as the eye can see for boys to crawl under and be rascals.”
“Oh boy! I sure hope this one has hot air hand dryers and not the boring old paper towels.” I said with anticipation that rivaled a run to the tree on Christmas morning.
“We will just have to see when we get there.” He said with a knowing wink (Years later my father confessed he knew there would be hot air hand dryers but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise)
“Hooray! This shitter sounds fantastic!”
“I know son, I know.”
But what was once an oasis of wholesome family oriented fellowship had degenerated into a den of sins of the flesh. The meet and greets turned into meat markets and you could forget trusting the stall users to ignore the children playing under their feet. Yes, the children’s laughter and jovial exchanges were replaced with unspeakable propositions to engage in sexual activity in quiet possibly the most bacteria-laden environment on the planet. Soon, the Air port public restroom became what it is today, an icy prison used only to excrete bodily waste and move on.
But as American’s were we to stand by and let the criminal element takeover one of the relics that makes America great? If criminals looking for a discrete romp with strangers could invade the stalls where our children crawled and played, then why the hell do we have a police force? Thankfully, one police force in Minneapolis had enough and decided to take the fight to these harmless but unquestionably gross criminals. If these criminals were going to hide in the stalls and use code to discretely communicate their wish to do evil then, well by God, an under cover agent of lady justice would be waiting in the stall next to them. The seedy element of society has been put on notice, if you want discrete anonymous sex, the Air port public restroom better not be on your places to visit.
I don’t have a kid, or really want one but if I had one, and it was a boy (or a girl if it becomes socially acceptable for me to take her to the women’s room) I would proudly fly him to Minneapolis and when the plane lands I would look down into his eyes and choking back tears I would tell him,
“C’mon son, there’s a little piece of the Apple Pie, once taken by evil but now back in the hands of the citizens thanks to the undercover police, you go play in the stalls in the restroom when we land, Daddy’s gotta drop a deuce.”