"Take Me to your Liter"

"Take Me to Your Liter"

Chuckleworthy?

       A few weeks ago, my wife and I went to Happy Buffet, a Chinese stuff-atorium that pits the diner against the management in a contest to see if the consumer can eat as much as he can spend. They always win, but the Happy Buffet often makes us happy, anyway. That was a good day. On our way out, we passed by the fish tank wherein fifteen to twenty hungry koi cohabitate. It’s like a pond on the floor opposite the cash register, ten feet by six feet. The friendly koi will follow you along the side of the pool, hoping for food. Management used to sell a pinch of koi food in a nearby vending machine for twenty-five cents. The machine is gone now, but I imagine that if the buffet food is too spicy or undercooked, you might toss it in the tank and the fish would appreciate it as well. As I said, friendly fish.

       But apparently there are villains who eat at Happy Buffet, just like us. I guess villains want to be happy every once in a while, too. They probably need it more than the guys in the white hats; after all, it’s only a happy ending for the good guys. It’s not very happy for the guys who got boo-ed. After a long day of being chased, and losing the girl to some halfwit in tight jeans and a white ten gallon hat; evil geniuses, misunderstood adolescents, and the framed innocent could use a little Happy Buffet. Mr. Lee Kim and the rest of the staff are evil-neutral.

       You might ask, how did I know there were such evildoers frequenting the restaurant? Because the fish pond had a warning sign above it. No, the sign didn’t say “No Fishing” or “No Tickee No washee” or “Watch for bones“. It said “Do not touch. Do not liter.”

       I took them at their word. As a retired English instructor, I had corrected one of their signs before, but they ignored me with an inscrutable Oriental smile and nod, as if to say, “Stupid Occidental(westerner), we pay extra yen for good sign with wrong words.” It’s true I did have the urge to liter, but, after all, I am a civilized person(here-here.) Also, I don’t think my bladder contained a full liter at that time. So we passed by the voracious creatures without stopping(you‘d think there‘s probably an underwater sign in Fin-nish, warning other pond creatures to stay away from warm streams of yellow fountain water.)

       When I got home, being curious, I turned to Google and asked how much fluid the average bladder contained “when at full capacity“. I was interested to see that the answer I got back was last updated September 7, 2007. The guy must surely be an expert on full bladders by now. The Google response also warned me to “Report Abuse”. I think that was a plea for help from the responder after having sat with his legs crossed and knees shaking for six years.

       What was the answer, you ask, no doubt having a bladder of your own? 500 ml or half a liter is capacity. 300 ml, however, is enough to trigger the need to go winky-tink. I remember picking up Wired by Bob Woodward, about the death of John Belushi, and reading that when the comedian was autopsied, his bladder held(according to my recollection) five times the normal amount of fluid, I’d guess 1500 ml. If he had not been high, he would have been in excruciating pain. Funny how drugs warp your judgment. “Man, I got to go! Wait, let me shoot up first. That’ll take care of it.”

       Full capacity -- 500 ml or about a pint. When I got this answer, I was also referred to a website where I was told I could “find full capacity at Target.” I think they were referring me to washers and dryers.

       Later that night, I revealed all this to my dear wife, Sandy. She hears about a lot of my misadventures. She listened patiently to me, then she seemed to feel the need for some time alone.Heehee