Today, as I slipped into the refuge awaiting me on other side of the familiar faceless stick figure with a triangle skirt, I knew immediately that I was in a place that rarely sees visitors. Crabtree Building (the College of Engineering building). Fourth floor. Women's Restroom. ................cricket chirp.................... Wow. I've never felt so invisible in my life! Just then, the gawking that had followed me throughout my entire voyage in this building registered. Ha! I'm a foreigner...awesome. So, into the stall I went, closed the door, and turned the little handle-doohickey to lock it. It swung back at me. Eh? I repeated. So did it. What the? AH HA! Further evidence that NO ONE uses this restroom: the locks don't lock! The door...parts...are too far apart for the lock to work. Hee hee!!! I then proceeded to giggle aloud at the thought of dysfunctional door locks in the Engineering building...the very nest-egg of ingenuity in our culture. Well done, boys...well done. How are they supposed to know? It's the women's restroom, right? I laughed all the way out the door, again, taking notice of the shocked double-takes. That's right, I'm female and I'm in your building...calm down, Barely-home-from-your-mission-for-two-months Computer-lover, I'm leaving now.
Yes. That's me, same girl, driving away in a truck. Shocking, I know. My mad loader-tractor skills would probably stop you dead in your tracks, Summer Sales. Move along...
(My apologies to all the brilliant female engineers in the world...you go girl. You were obviously quicker on the ratio uptake than I.)
(It suddenly occurs to me that this is my second post concerning lavatories in as many weeks...pensive stare into space...)