OK, I wasn't going to do this. I made some promises, but I've been struggling for ideas, so I'm left with no other alternative. I think I'll share a couple of my most embarrassing bathroom moments. Now hold on! Hold the phone! I'm not going to deliberately try and gross anyone out. This is a family Blog. I want you and your children to snuggle up next to the computer and feel safe with the stories I share. So, I'll refrain from telling... the really good ones and share some of the tamer yet humorous ones.
1. It was my senior year of High School and the basketball team was asked to help direct traffic through the parking lot for the football team's Homecoming game. It was cold and boring and I was missing the game. To the top it all off, while I was standing out near the exit of the parking lot (easily a quarter mile from the nearest bathroom) mother nature came a knockin' and I was going to have to answer the door if you know what I mean... Oh brother, you know what I mean.
Needless to say, I was in no position to run the distance all the way to the bathroom inside the school, but there was the visiting team's varsity locker room that had a bathroom and that wasn't too far away.
So down I go, hobbling, whimpering, dodging happy-go-lucky highschoolers so excited to watch the game, all the way into the locker room. Man! I didn't think this through. Who could possibly be using the visiting varsity team's locker bathroom? Uh.... could it be the visiting varsity team? Bingo! And they were giants and all of them had to go and were lined out the door. Plus there was only two stalls! Who was the brilliant architectural mind that mastered that one?
I filed in line, easily the shortest and puniest of the bunch, tip-toeing back and forth in place and making some awkward noises. After about... oh I'd say a minute, I couldn't wait any longer and the line hadn't moved. What was I to do? There was no way I was going to be able to politely cut to the front. I was beyond panicked, not only was I not going to make it to the bathroom in time, but I had decided to draw the biggest audience imaginable. Suddenly, and unexplainable feeling of urgency bubbled up inside of me (ooh, nice description, Frank.) Mustering all the courage I could, I belted out at the top of my lungs for everyone to move out of my way and then, shockingly, I started pushing through to the front of the line. I might have apologized, I can't remember, but no one tried to stop me. What was wrong with them? Shouldn't they be pounding me? Instead, I slipped all the way to the front and ducked into the empty stall the second it became available. No one said a word. Notta. I did what I had to do, wondering what would happen once I opened the door and flushed. That's when I would get pounded.
Again, I was utterly amazed. No one said a word to me when I got out. I was able to make my way out of the locker unscathed. It was a miracle. Later that night, one of the opposing football players caught up with me and pulled me aside to ask me a question. He was wondering who those giant soldier-looking guys were that walked me to the restroom? They had to have been angels. Ha! Some of you actually fell for that last part, didn't you? Come on fess up. So, that last part never happened, but the whole ordeal was indeed somewhat of a miracle.
2. I was going to the bathroom in a store a while ago and the place got a little crowded. People were filing through the doors, washing their hands, laughing with their friends, while I was there. Someone tried my stall door and after realizing it was occupied, politely stepped back. Apparently there was quite the line developing beyond my door, and for some freak reason, the jiggling of the door handle had released the latch. Like an eerie movie, the door creaked open. I sat there smiling sheepishly at a fairly decent-sized line staring back at me. It was like one of those Westerns when the two gunslingers would stand motionless, anticipating the other's next move. No one budged for a solid minute. We just smiled at each other. Why? I don't know. I don't have all the answers. But finally, after much deliberation, I pulled the door closed. Whew, that was a close one. The moment had passed. I was safe and happy. Right up until the door creaked open once more ever-so-slowly and the stare down started up again. This happened three or four more times before I left the stall and now I will never show my face in that mall again. I hope they're pleased with themselves.
I do hope no one took offense to those little anecdotes. One day, when I'm brave, I'll share a few that should guarantee a guffaw or two.
And now for a little ranting question: What bothers you more? a) Going to the bathroom and having some one's kid try repeatedly to open your stall while you desperately explain that it is in use and then for the next 3-5 minutes you can feel those prying eyes staring at you through the crack of the door? or b) Going to the bathroom and someone a few stalls down who doesn't realize you're there in the bathroom starts talking to themselves. They could be rehearsing some lines from a play, reading a long grocery list, reenacting a conversation they might have had just prior to entering the bathroom or just plain asking themselves a lot of questions. You are now in sort of a strange predicament. If you carry on with your business, they'll discover that you're there, get embarrassed and the both of you have to share that uncomfortable silence while the world turns outside the bathroom door, or you have to try and be ultra-quiet, not make a sound, not a squeak and hope with all your might that they'll never be the wiser and will finish up before you. Which one? I'm just curious.