By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Loyal readers will appreciate just how hard it was for What's So Funny to fox-trot through the doors of Home Depot on South Colorado Boulevard a few days ago. In a way, it was like trying to sex up a former lover since graduated from The Swan, now far too pretty and successful to pay you any mind.
"I remember when you were ugly, bitch!" you scream at her hopelessly. But she doesn't hear you. She's big-time now, taking dinners with Billy Dee Williams, undressing on casting couches all across the Valley. Her PR people are trying to get Ashton Kutcher to punk her. She doesn't even remember that first kiss on the bench by the lake, when the moon seemed so low you swore you could touch it.
For you see, that vast concrete corral that houses the Depot of Homes was once the hallowed ground that held Celebrity Sports Center, the allegorical white whale of this column. Where fat plumbers now buy small tubes to fix sinks, fat children once fired through large tubes in a geyser of suspect water. Drivers along Colorado Boulevard would catch sight of us shrieking little porpoises as we jetted through the tubes that snaked in and out of the building with little regard for aesthetic value. At one point this was the choicest of diversions in What's So Funny's life, but then the magic playland was wiped off the map before we even realized just how creepy the place actually was.
9401 E. Arapahoe Road
Greenwood Village, CO 80112
Region: Southeast Denver Suburbs
Remember all those naked old men staring in the locker room?
Now I had to put all this behind me, pull myself up by my bootstraps and overcome my sincere loathing of the working class. I had to go to Home Depot. There was journalism to be had.
Last week a cantankerous clod by the name of Bob Dougherty joined the exclusive company of the moron who spilled piping hot McDonald's coffee in her lap and the idiot who tried to slip a finger in her Wendy's chili when he sued Home Depot for $3 million because he got glued to a toilet seat. On October 30, 2003, Dougherty was gleefully perusing the aisles of a Home Depot in Louisville, perhaps concocting some delightfully irreverent homemade Halloween costume, when he was seized by a case of the bowel tremors and tore off for the men's room. The fastidious fellow found no paper toilet-seat covers there, but needed to duke so bad he sat down, anyway. (Note to Mr. Dougherty: Even in my most dire situations, when full-blown turtle heads have been poking out to see the light of day, I've been able to hold out the two or three seconds necessary to wipe down the seat. If there are no toilet seat covers, use toilet paper! Jesus, I thought everybody knew that.) Still, what a beautiful feeling that must have been, the sweet relief of the prompt disposal of a bountiful fecal bonanza. But the moment was fleeting, for when Dougherty tried to rise, he found he could not rise at all! Some dastardly pranksters had covered the toilet seat with an affixing agent. Allegedly.
Dougherty screamed for employees to come to his rescue but received no assistance for fifteen minutes; suspicious workers thought it was a prank. Finally, paramedics were called in; they unbolted the toilet and wheeled an embarrassed Dougherty to the ambulance. Once the seat was removed, Dougherty's rosy-red ass had noticeable abrasions.
Three million dollars, please.
For obvious reasons, Dougherty's case has received much attention from the press. Officials in Nederland, where he lives, say that Dougherty made similar gluey-toilet-seat claims there, but Old Man Sticky Ass took a polygraph to debunk that charge. Still, it made me wonder just how easy it might be to get glued to a toilet seat -- which is how I found myself creeping out Home Depot patrons as I politely waited for them to exit the stalls in the men's room, then went in to thoroughly inspect the premises. Here's what I found:
Stall 1: Kohler toilet. No glue on the toilet, but several very curly pubic hairs. Door slightly unhinged. Call Betty, 303-672-1266, for a good time.
Stall 2: Kohler toilet again -- like that consistency, Home Depot. Not a trace of glue, but the toilet seat was barely attached. Even if you did get glued to it, you could remove the seat with one powerful upward lunge, somehow pull your pants up over it, exit the store posthaste, then remove it in the comfort of your own home.
Stall 3: Handicapped stall -- love that extra space. Kohler toilet #3, bravo! There's a sticky residue on and around the toilet seat, but upon closer inspection, it's clear that this is definitely not glue. Looks like the spirit of Celebrity survived after all!
Unisex bathroom: No glue whatsoever. Baby-changing station. No baby.
While the court will decide if Dougherty's claim is legit, after a thorough inspection I can safely say that right now, the toilets at the Home Depot on Colorado Boulevard are glue-free. Fucking disgusting, but glue-free.