Talk To Me

Heading to San Francisco on the 23rd, we stopped at the McDonald's in Vacaville. I slipped into the bathroom just as a worker carrying a large replacement roll of toilet paper queried the toilet stall, "Is anyone there?" Hearing no answer, he entered the stall, and apparently unaware I was outside, he began a philosophical inquiry. "Tell me, oh God, Lord of the Universe," he intoned. "Who are you? Talk to me, my Lord. Tell me everything." I hated to flush the urinal and disturb his reverie. For whatever reason, on this day and in this place, the Lord of the Universe remained silent.