Tuesday, November 19, 2013

From one vague awkward-ity to the next...

Ya, it's a word. I said so.

Some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed...but it does pay DIVIDENDS of humor, if you're me. :)  We, of the XX genotype, do not particularly enjoy the restroom experience when fellow genotypes are present. Somehow, in our culture, it has become socially custom, nigh unto expected, to prevent one's bathroom experience from beginning until the other person is somehow rendered unable to hear it either by evacuation of premises or some other loud commotion (ie. a flush). Can I get a shout-out from all the females who have experienced something similar? Maybe this is only a problem because our work bathrooms only have two stalls...thereby inherently marking you as a plausible culprit in every incident.

There I go, entering el bano at the PERFECTLY TIMED moment...when the other toilet's flush begins.  Rock on. On this specific occasion, I have no lengthy plans for the event, which turned out to be helpful. Other-Stallmate, as we'll call her, is one of those people who simply doesn't seem to understand the game. Why does it take some people longer to interpret the silence as they....stare in the mirror? Fidget with clothing? Pluck eyebrows?!! I dunno, but seriously lady-whom-I-obviously-work-with...why are you unable to interpret the silence as your cue to leave? Be gone!


This triggers self-evaluation: why do I care? I usually pride myself on being a particularly savvy custom-smasher in this vein...why should I have to wait? Mind you, this quest for restroom independence only began to surface after years of perfecting my patience during prolonged silence-off's, as I like to call them. Like absurd mutations of a Staring Contest, sitting silently...glancing sideways at the stall wall as if to dare the other person to flinch, waiting for their demise--when they give up and leave so you can be there in peace.

Sometimes now, out of courtesy, I will be unnecessarily loud about washing my hands and excessively hasty about drying them just to give someone who is still suffering from the game some peace. But why do I care in the first place? Hmph. Here, it's even gone so far as for people to walk in, see ONE STALL taken and one stall open, only to have people turn around and exit. What is this madness?! So, then I start to laugh at the absurdity, as I'm sure you are already doing. Is it dumb? Yes. Does the situation create heightened feelings of awkward for all involved..yup.

Tossing my used paper towel into the trash, I try to disguise a snigger on my way out, so as to not offend Newcomer-Stallmate presently sitting in silence. "Hee hee. Aamateur...she'll learn," I think to myself as I unwittingly leave the confines of the restroom WHILST adjusting the ladies...and look up just in time to attempt a sort of whimper-smile at Male Coworker as he unsuccessfully averts his deer-in-headlight eyes and darts down the hall.


On to the next. :)

(for the record, I laughed REALLY hard about the whole thing when I got back to my desk...but that might be the lack of sleep comin back to bite me)

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