If us bathroom mirrors could talk, we'd be such terrible telltales. Such awful sneaks. Snitches. "She touches herself." "He wears his wife's clothes." "He talks for 10 minutes in the voice of Spongebob square pants. Everyday. Practising. Plans on trying out for a talent show. You’d think at 55 he’d have more sense!" "Mr. CEO is terrified of creepy crawlies and screams like a girl at the sight of one" “The priest hums ‘Like a Virgin’ while he shaves, makes moany sounds occasionally!” “That’s nothing. The other priest reads Playboy on the potty” "She might be the hottest girl in school and all, but her oral hygiene sucks. Bad breath as terrible as satan.""She hides alcohol in the flush tank. Swings" "He eats boogers. Blurgh!" "He pisses into his wife's shampoo." "She's in love with her son's best friend. They've been here and done thaaat." "Her t**s.... one hundred percent NOT REAL. One day it was like ho-hum and then barely later, it's glory! Glory!" “He fancies his best friend’s girl” “He’s having an affair.” “About Brangelina…ha ha wouldn’t you like to know!” “You’ll never guess who stayed the night at the chief minister’s place” We'd be the darling of the paparazzi. You think our worthy brother couldn't see right through old Adolf's plans everytime he carefully primped those bushy parallel lines on his philtrum with his toilet scissors as a young adult? But like I said, we can't talk. We're privy to army secrets, scandals, state secrets, orientation secrets, torrid love affairs, basically, forgive the pun, steamy secrets. We know the truth about the existence of aliens. I'm not telling you anything, oh no!! But I'm telling you, even those people you call Men in Black, they look into bathroom mirrors. And we know a Man in Black from a purple-faced large headed chrome yellow dribbling 6-footer. And we can tell a Halloween costume when we see it, thank you very much. We know which starlets take a piss standing up. Ha ha... aren't you dying to know our secrets, now? But most importantly, we know who loves you and who doesn't. What you see is never, ever what you get.
Big secrets. Small secrets. Smashing secrets. Blah secrets. Predictable-as-a-cheesy-romance secrets. Terrible secrets. Not-so-terrible secrets. Personal secrets. Scary secrets. Sweet secrets. "He asked her out finally. She just told me. They're going to be so happy together." Now, call me sappy, but I love secrets like that. I love it when they brush together in front of me, jostling for space, illict giggling, knowing they have no business being in front of the same bathroom mirror. "Her husband takes her make up off for her sometimes...awww ain't that sweet" "He's so in love with her. He even smiles when he brushes his teeth." I love it when small children choose to pray in front of me “Dear God, please make me beautiful” Then there are snide secrets. "You should see her without makeup. HORRIBLE. And she's supposed to be this hotshot actress. Sorry hon, but no photoshop available here." We even know who is standing behind you, watching you even when you can't see them. You know what I'm talking about, right?
"The boss cries in the loo as well. Just like everybody else." "She doesn't want this baby. And he's so excited. He doesn't even know it’s not his" "She stains her daughter inlaw's clothes on purpose and ruins them for spite." "She considers slitting her wrists everyday and changes her mind everytime her husband calls her to bed""He wanks thinking of his secretary's husband. And his wife has absolutely no clue!" “She lost her virginity..again. God, men are so stupid” “He beats his wife” ““He’s sleeping with his ex”. “So is she.” “Whoa! This is getting messy”.” “She’s bulimic.” It's practically amusing how people are so uninhibited in front of us. Hell, even nuns have no qualms about dropping their clothes in front of us. Practiced speeches. Nobel Prize slash booker prize slash Grammy slash academy award slash national award slash Miss India acceptance speeches. Rock concerts with shampoo bottles for mikes. Parliamentary addresses. Don't even get me started on the shutter-happy narcissists who can't get enough of taking their own pictures in front of us. Proposals. "Will you marry me? Tch...Will you please, please marry me? ...uh uh...I can't live without you. So marry me?" And the inevitable HUGE Sigh! So many dreams..all laid before us.
Happy Bathroom mirrors, unhappy bathroom mirrors, content bathroom mirrors, disgruntled bathroom mirrors, suicidal bathroom mirrors, pervy bathroom mirrors, holier-than-thou bathroom mirrors. It’s just very well we don't socialize that much. And that we can't speak.
Here's the deal. Some of us see pretty much the whole of a person's life. We're like more or less, a permanent fixture. A long term relationship of sorts. Right from when we can just about see the tops of their heads (soft curls and porcupiney straight) to when you can just about make eye contact if they stand on precarious tips of toes, necks outstretched like curious ostriches, then you see a cute little nose, then a smile, then a neck, till they're tall enough that we see the tops of their heads as they double over in grief in front of our eyes. Breaks our glassy hearts! In many ways, we're the true reflection of who you really are. We ARE who you are. Your strengths, your weaknesses, your happiness, your sadness, you dreams, your worries, your insecurities, your true beauty, your heartbreaks. We see it all. Lipstick and kisses. Aftershave and nicked necks. Tight underwear and cellulite. Sweethearts and bitter tears. Concealer and camouflage. Being taken for granted and being cherished. Frustration and prayers. Sometimes a little too much that desired. Like leaning over and bursting pimples in our faces (for the record, I hate that) and checking for breast cancer (don't do that in front of us, please. It's scary!!) It’s sometimes sad to watch some of you become such clichés of disaster. And it is wonderful when you redeem yourself. Most of you are a lot cooler when you're naked. If only you'd take the time to look yourself in the eye.
It’s very well we don’t speak. It's a good thing we don't go to town about it. It's a good thing we can't tell on you.Things are bad enough with most of you going around with your heart gaily swinging from your sleeve.