Where's the Glory?

In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.

Reporters and gawkers crammed into the men’s room, startling a few surprised urinal users who had not been privy to the sudden news conference. Zipping up with red faces, but curious, they stayed as Mr. Johnson produced a flimsy cardboard architectural model of the proposed restroom remodel he’d titled,

No More Glory-Holes – A Return to Decency

Senator Johnson welcomed everyone warmly into the slightly rank, enclosed space smelling like Bourbon Street on a Sunday morning. “Welcome friends, thank you for coming out today to hear about my proposed airport bathroom remodel. This plan will bring us together as a nation, to right our moral compass by eliminating sexual temptation and predation. I was once lost, but now am found.”

Senator Johnson, sweat dripping from his temple and seeping through his once crisp white shirt, sniffed, wrinkling his nose and checking his gag reflex, continued.

“Airport restrooms are the gateway to Sodom and Gomorrah, part of Satan’s grand plan to lure respectable God-fearing Christians into a life of debauchery and sexual depravity. Believe me, I know. I once danced down that road of sin. There is no glory to be found in glory-holes!”

Senator Johnson referenced the “glory-hole” phenomena sweeping the American public restroom scene, stating the need to bring “Christ into the chamber (pot) to help cast off our sins.”

For those not up to date on current kinky sex jargon, a glory-hole is a “hole made through a wall or partition to enable people to perform sex acts anonymously...” (Merriam Webster) Mr. Johnson does not want anyone’s “johnson” to become prey for this kind of lascivious activity, as his had once been. “It’s against God and country and decent Americans need to protect our morals and (ass)ets from this kind of wickedness.”

The Senator went on to state current statistics of glory-hole busts around the country. Apparently Atlanta is a hotbed of glory-hole criminal activity, with New Orleans, a close second. His voice rose and shook with indignation,

“Just google “glory-hole” and you’ll find a dark world of perversion and backdoor sex at your fingertips, on that laptop you have sitting across from your innocent, blue eyed two year old, as she num-nums her cheerios. The indecency. It’s right there in your family room. Our children’s futures are at stake. And I have a plan!”

Senator Johnson’s plans were simple: concrete and steel enforced stalls from the ground to ceiling, thus preventing suggestive hand gestures or the ability to drill holes for peeking or other such base pursuits. This bold and audacious plan would have economic benefits as well. It would stimulate the flaccid steel industry by providing jobs “to Americans, for Americans and by Americans.”

Mr. Johnson and his soon to be ex-wife, had invited religious leaders to bless his plans in the hopes of rallying the faith community to support his BIG idea. Ironically there was not a robed or collared religious leader in sight in the Men’s room on this hot Sunday morning.

WDSU reporter Norm LaRose asked Mr. Johnson about his known alliance and friendship with “Wide Stance (Larry) Craig” of Airport Potty Sex Scandal fame. Clearing his throat, Johnson stated he had long since distanced himself from the former Idaho Senator.

“I was heartbroken and alarmed to hear of Craig’s backside politics and subsequent fall from grace. But I’ve been there. I know the temptation he found in that bathroom in the Minneapolis airport. I truly believe the Devil was at work and these bathrooms are the real problem.”

Pushing back his mop of gray matted hair, damp and dead-bird like, he went on to describe public bathrooms as “dens of hedonism.”

“Even the word bathroom - bath – it’s an invitation to take off your clothes. If we take temptation away, then the good, honest American people will no longer have a reason to commit these despicable acts. Nothing good happens in public bathrooms.”

Mr. Johnson produced a gavel at the end of his fiery speech, and slammed it down on the soapy, stained bathroom counter with flourish, startling reporters and spectators alike. He gathered his papers, that had become waterlogged from sitting in a puddle of God knows what, and bowed, seemingly waiting for applause and a flurry of questions. Confused and bemused faces met his gaze with stunned silence as he awkwardly stumbled from the bathroom, trailing a roll of toilet paper from his shiny black leather Cole Haans.

Mrs. Johnson was nowhere to be found. Someone suggested she had slunk out earlier. “I think she was hankering for a Lucky Dog.”