Don’t go at the same time Kofi Annan is visiting.

Sheesh.

OTOH, now I have this story to tell*: finally get in, really have to pee on account of drinking bottled mineral water all morning and then the cold outside/warm car interior/cold outside/warm UN interior changes; head for nearest restroom. Guy comes in, takes urinal next to me.
Being the kind of person who ignores other guys in the restroom, I ignore him. But I can feel he’s looking at me.
“Mig, right?” he says. So I have to look over at him. It’s Kofi “F*cking” Annan.
“Mr. Annan? How do you know me?”
“I read your blog,” he says.
“You’re joking,” I say. Must not look at Mr. Annan’s johnson, I think. Which, of course, makes it harder more difficult not to. See, I once took a whiz next to Boris Yeltsin in a men’s room at the Moscow Airport, and the one thing everyone asks me when I tell them that story is, So, Boris have a big one?
“Turtle doing okay?” Kofi Annan asks.
“Greek land tortoise,” I say. “Yeah, she’s fine.”
“I liked the post about her and the harp,” he says.
“I admire your, uh, work,” I finally say.
He just chuckled a deep chuckle.
I couldn’t stand it any more and looked. I wish I hadn’t.
He followed my gaze, and shrugged. “Don’t be dismayed,” he said. “I do represent the African continent, after all,” he said.
“It’s very big,” I said.
“I call him my Peacemaker,” he said.
“That’s a better nickname than Blue Helmet, I suppose,” I said.
He chuckled again, shook off his Peacemaker, and left.
I mean, of course he tucked it back into his pants, too, and zipped up, and washed his hands. How much detail do you want?

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*I have this story to tell because the security arrangements for Mr. Annan’s visit inspired it, not because it really happened.