Bathroom Break
Dang it! I had resolved to return to my usual Sunday posting routine, and then completely forgot about it. You'd think that with Spencer out of town, I would have realized that there was something I could do beside moping around and slowly falling in love with Adam Scott while marathoning Parks and Recreation.
Other trying to read Anna Karenina, giving up and watching more Parks and Rec, and then trying to find clothes in which I could dress Spencer like Ben, the only thing I've really been doing this summer is working. I love my job and the people I get to work with, but being here so often has left me with a few instances of workplace awkwardess that I would rather forget.
For example, the time that a routine bathroom break went horribly awry. Don't worry and/or get excited, this is just about people being awkward.
The bathroom closest to the cave in which I work is an anomaly to me. It consists of an outer door that locks, and then inside that door there is a room big enough for three or four normal sized stalls. Instead of three or four normal sized stalls, however, there is one giant stall with a comfy chair in it. Why there needed to be a stall at all inside of a bathroom with a locking door, I will never understand.
The other day, I got up to go to this enigma of a bathroom. The door was unlocked, it even said so on the sliding panel above the lock, with its happy green "unoccupied" sign. I opened the door, and to my horror, there was a girl in there, washing her hands. I suddenly had no idea what to do. Technically, there was a stall, and in any other bathroom, this would be ok. But, I was used to absolute privacy in this bathroom, as was she, I'm sure. We stared at each other for a full second. She was taking her sweet time washing her hands and wanted me to know that she would slow down for no full-bladdered woman.
Deciding that it would be more uncomfortable to slink back to my desk and try again later, I went into the stall. She left a few seconds later, and I realized that this could only be the beginning of a chain of events. She couldn't have locked the door on her way out, leaving me exposed in this one stall bathroom of confusion. What if someone else came in while I was washing my hands!? And then I would be left unable to lock the door for them. There would be confused and uncomfortable women sharing this bathroom for the rest of eternity!
Luckily, no one came in and I was able to wash my hands in peace. But seriously, why would you not lock the door? And why is there even a stall!?!
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| Pretty much the only time that Rob Lowe isn't the most attractive person in a picture. |
For example, the time that a routine bathroom break went horribly awry. Don't worry and/or get excited, this is just about people being awkward.
The bathroom closest to the cave in which I work is an anomaly to me. It consists of an outer door that locks, and then inside that door there is a room big enough for three or four normal sized stalls. Instead of three or four normal sized stalls, however, there is one giant stall with a comfy chair in it. Why there needed to be a stall at all inside of a bathroom with a locking door, I will never understand.
The other day, I got up to go to this enigma of a bathroom. The door was unlocked, it even said so on the sliding panel above the lock, with its happy green "unoccupied" sign. I opened the door, and to my horror, there was a girl in there, washing her hands. I suddenly had no idea what to do. Technically, there was a stall, and in any other bathroom, this would be ok. But, I was used to absolute privacy in this bathroom, as was she, I'm sure. We stared at each other for a full second. She was taking her sweet time washing her hands and wanted me to know that she would slow down for no full-bladdered woman.
Deciding that it would be more uncomfortable to slink back to my desk and try again later, I went into the stall. She left a few seconds later, and I realized that this could only be the beginning of a chain of events. She couldn't have locked the door on her way out, leaving me exposed in this one stall bathroom of confusion. What if someone else came in while I was washing my hands!? And then I would be left unable to lock the door for them. There would be confused and uncomfortable women sharing this bathroom for the rest of eternity!
Luckily, no one came in and I was able to wash my hands in peace. But seriously, why would you not lock the door? And why is there even a stall!?!
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