Why I Peed in the Mens Room

So, here’s why I peed in the men’s room.

I’m working on a fascinating project and I love the guys I work with because not only are they computer geeks extraordinaire but they are literate. And they ask me questions about my field. They really want to know the difference between “disinterested” and “uninterested” and why punctuation goes inside quotation marks. They are great writers, too.

Back to the story. I’m at my desk doing hard thinking work about how I’m going to depict this graphic that we’re working on that will determine the cyber security methods for the whole company for the next five years at least. It shows things like biometrics and RFIDs and complex passwords. Then I have to go to the bathroom. Still thinking and imagining solutions intensely, I head for the restrooms.

The restrooms are down the hall, at opposite ends of an alcove. I wheel into the alcove, hit the door, and head for my favorite potty, the handicapped one. (No handicapped people had better ever challenge me on using it, either. I’m a woman, I'm fat, I’m old, and if that isn’t a handicap, I don’t know what is.)

So I’m sitting on the pot, still thinking and imagining how to solve this problem when I notice that the woman next to me has some pretty hefty brogans showing underneath the stall wall. And she is flushing the toilet over and over again, non-stop. Weird. But I’m busy so I wash my hands and turn to leave the deserted restroom. The woman in the brogans is still flushing like crazy.

As I near the door, I glance to the side. Urinals? What are urinals doing in here? Aw, Holy Mother of God.

A couple of days later, I’m driving down the freeway, and I start laughing in a way that is a danger to me and everyone else because my driving is definitely impaired. I realize the “woman” next to me probably noticed my cute little ballet flats and thought he was in the ladies room. What repeatedly flushing the toilet was going to do to remedy the situation, I don’t know, but I almost made an unsafe lane change I was laughing so hard.

Aren’t old people fun? Ah, well. Back to my chow mein.