You know what I mean. You are mid-squeeze when the door opens. Shit! It’s library quiet in there and you are in the middle of your contribution. If you stay and wait, she will inevitably sit down and do her dainty pee while peering under the stall wall to see whose feet you are wearing. Then she flushes and advances to the mirror where she proceeds to touch up every feature on her face, rummage through her purse, and hum lightly to herself.
Why won’t you leave? you silently cry. Everyone knows what’s up. She hasn’t heard a splish or splash since she walked in. She hasn’t even heard you breathe; she knows what you are doing. Leave, dammit! Make some noise even! But she takes her sweet time, all the while implying that she would never be caught dead dropping the kids off at the public pool—she has a pool at home.
You’re trapped mid-crap and neither a force-finish or a hasty retreat is a good option. If you leave and come back later, you have to face the guys again on your fourth trip of the day. If you stay, you know that she knows who the silent chick behind door number two is and every time you see her in the hall, you will be reduced to the girl that was pooping in the bathroom. Ha ha.
Another lovely scenario is what I call the why-in-the-world-won’t-you-use-the spray woman. I walk into the bathroom, not even in a hurry because I am only going number one, and the smell hits me. Fuck! There are baskets of potpourri and orange sprays in both stalls and yet some idiot decided that her ass-roma was delightful enough to let linger. What is wrong with people? Use the spray! The only positive thing about this scenario is if you do have some business to do, you can relax. If someone comes in, it already smells and you will automatically be blamed, so you’re screwed anyway—you may as well take your time.
The only thing worse than this is when you use the spray yourself and don’t manage to get away from the falling particles. You step out of the bathroom and then it hits you—I smell like the damn spray! And since it’s weapons-grade industrial cleaner and smells like no perfume, oil, or any scent from nature, you are screwed. You smell like the bathroom; you are Bathroom Girl.
PREVIOUS PAGE
