I love you.
You were clean and met my needs fully in a difficult time. You cared not that I had no sweet words to lessen your normal inhibitions, nor that I had no flowers to sway you with. In my haste I could only enter and do my business as quickly as possible, and I confess, I gave little thought to your needs. Yet you remained fresh smelling and joyful in your receptacle duties. You are a shining example to all restrooms everywhere.
You've remained loyal and steadfast, old friend. You don't judge me when I play Mraz songs over and over again, though you really should. I mean.. he's so gay. Also, your size prohibits very large people from entering you, which has led to very funny moments as those large people realize they must seek transportation elsewhere.
Of course it was only funny to me afterwards, at the time it was mortifyingly ackward. (Sorry former supervisor who couldn't fit in my car.. good luck on Biggest Loser 4!)
Finally, my heart bleeds for the Most Depressing Carnival™ on earth.
Oh carnival.. give up. Really. There's no point in exposing your shame to the world like this.
I wondered about the parents bringing their children here. What lessons were they imparting?
"Timmy, this is what human wreckage looks like."
"Allison, remember when we were talking about economic depression? LOOK!"
"Leroy, don't stare, it's perfectly normal for the cook to have a dangling cigarette as he prepares your fine meal of curdled fries."
"Ok kids, Daddy is going around back with this toothless woman for a little while. Go play with the broken glass or something, k?"