Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Dancing in the Dark

One of my favorite times of working in the college bookstore was when we moved into a brand new building and got to explore our new enclosure....
We now have our own pair of restrooms. No more do we have to share with the odiferous, bad aiming, grafitti scrawling, bucking-like-funnies rabble that we call our customers. And since this is a new building each bathroom is equipped with a motion sensor.
The math being this: It is cheaper to have the lights on in a room for 30 minutes at a time rather than having them turned on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off by a bunch of caffeine whores who insist in ingesting gallons of useless fluids per day. After 30 minutes of inactivity the sensor shuts the lights off automatically.
And me, I am always looking for ways to keep from chewing my own face off from boredom, and so I love nothing more than to enter one of the restrooms and realize that the light is off and I get to start the sensor cycle anew.
There are inumerable ways to do that of course, the simplest being just walking across the room. 
From (and Berkeley Breathed, of course.)

But me, I prefer to entertain the sensor by practicing my “Thriller” dance routine, my bellydance steps (both of them), or my Steve-Dallas-in-the-shower ‘air crooner’ microphone moves.
You don’t think that sensor triggers a camera, do you?
 Angus McMahan

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