Pardon the ridiculousness of the post. I really just have to let this brain fart out.
There is one place of refuge that those who are considered too young to enter “society” has yet to see as more than its function of relief.
T’was the place where one would finally understand the joys of small things; those abrupt moments that counts in midst of crises.
One might need refreshments or a quick fix.
Some simply needs to keep updated of how life goes beyond the bars of productivity, traded for means of survival.
While others might just need to stare blankly on the door–away from the eyes of the powerful, or the equally weary yet ready to judge–up until one was waken by one’s own reverie.
Or in many cases, it was chills sent from one’s exposed bum.
Also, the sound and smell of those from the other sides, minding their own business. Literally.
Whence one was young it was a bother to ask for permission, yet the older one goes, none was needed. An eventual halt, a turn of the seat, and there one goes to breathe in a little rejuvenation.
Now I understood why it was built sturdily and regularly well-maintained in such establishments.
It was no secret pathways or codes required to reach it; no mystery clouding over this ultimate getaway in the middle of a busy day.
Rather, it’s more of an unwritten ritual, acceptable to all, no matter in which slot of the hierarchy they fill in. The place equalizes, humanizes.
The abundance of water shall not concern the possibility of dehydration or inattentiveness.
Weirdly, it decreases as one makes way to one’s station, which probably explains why one comes back to the place an awful lot.
Of course, one wouldn’t be deprived of it; at least not by one’s own guts… or bladders.
Well, just make sure to keep the intervals long enough and the periods as brief as possible ;p