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Martin Greenblat

The Lochted Door

Like most people, when I heard the Ryan Lochte story, I thought: What a buffoon. You are 32 years old, you got drunk, and you all acted like idiots. So when the Security Guards did not shoot you, but actually let you go, you should have taken your behavior quietly to the grave. And for the love of God, why did you make up a story for your mom? Are you 8?

However, after a recent traumatic experience involving the need to relieve myself, I have gained valuable insight into Mr. Lochte and his aqua-friends.

The Situation

I took my wife to work the other day, after we both dropped the kids at school. While the entire trip is only a few kilometers, the traffic in Sao Paulo made it feel like a cross-country trip. Knowing that I had an additional 40 minutes in the car, I decided to make a quick pit-stop in the same complex as my wife's office, when the following occurred:

  1. I was not allowed to leave the car with the hazards on even for a quick ''timeout.''
  2. The security guard informed me I could enter the parking area and have 10 minutes in which I would not be charged for parking. Sounded good.
  3. I asked the security guard if the shopping was already open so that I could use the restroom, since the office building had no access. He replied ''yes.''
  4. The shopping center was closed. The guy works 20 meters from the building and has NO IDEA that it is closed until 10am.
  5. I decide to go past the shopping to another office building, where I enter and am immediately informed that there is no bathroom on the ground floor. Since I am not there to meet anyone, I cannot get a badge and go to some random floor to take care of business.
  6. So I ask the receptionist if there is a bathroom nearby. He looks at me puzzled. I suggest that perhaps the parking garage may have one. He says that ''yes, there must be,'' and says I should go back out, walk past the car ramp and descend the stairs.
  7. I walk past the car ramp and the stairs are locked. 5 minutes have passed and you have no idea how bureaucratic paying for parking will be if I get to the 11 minute mark. Pressure is on.
  8. I risk it all and run down the car ramp.
  9. There is a group of Valet Parking employees standing around and I ask one where the bathroom might be. He also looks at me puzzled.
  10. I inform him that it can be any bathroom, even where he goes. In other words, I do not need some 'executive' bathroom.
  11. He scratches his chin. WTF? These guys spend 12 hours in a dungeon of a garage and never use the bathroom. A car approaches and he motions for me to wait a minute. He then gets in the car and valet parks it.
  12. In the words of McEnroe — you cannot be serious.
  13. I am now at about 9 minutes and desperate measures must be taken.
  14. I run up the ramp leaping over a Porsche (ok, that was an overexaggeration), run to my car, and exit the parking at the 10 minute mark.
  15. I drive out of the complex and start to look for a gas station, which I find after a few minutes.
  16. I enter the convenience store, where they inform that that there IS a bathroom down the stairs.
  17. I hustle down the stairs, make it to the bathroom and open the door.
  18. The rest is rather predictable.
The Divergence

However, if that door had been locked (Lochted), I may have gone all USA Swimmer and actually kicked it in and then destroyed a soap dispenser for good measure.

So I think that Mr. Lochte and friends suffered something similar to steps 1–16 above, and only because their door was locked and mine was open, did they impugn an entire nation, police force, Olympic movement, embarrass themselves, their families and NBC (screw NBC they deserve it as payback for Tape Delay), paid a fine, and will subsequently be punished by USA Olympic authorities.

Thanks goodness as it could have been me!