Pink Knees
The ceiling light was already on when I walked in. I noted the oddness – our office is the only occupancy on the floor and I’d not been in the room earlier, but I shrugged it off.
Three solid walls create the ends and back but the façade and door are jointed panels. The door normally opens in, but when I pushed it wouldn’t budge. I pushed again, harder this time and then I understood why. The one inch space between panel and door revealed a set of pink knees.
I heard a voice as I entered the adjacent stall, distinctly recognizable. “Sorry. Yeah, it’s me in here.” They said.
Well what else is there to do but carry on? I was already in the other stall, couldn’t back out. Full steam ahead, that’s what I decided and so out of shock and habit I replied, “Yeah, hey. How’s it going?” No sooner did the words leave me than I cringed, made a sour face and mentally kicked myself for such a ridiculous response. I don’t want to know how it’s going.
The other stall, in a tone of contrition and embarrassment continued, “I come in here when I need to do something that might take time, not enough privacy in the men’s room.”
I tell him it’s, “Not a problem, my being the only girl in the office – your odds must normally be pretty good.” I wondered, why was I talking? Just shut up, get it done, keep the laughter in, finish and leave. “I’ll be out in a sec and you’ll have it to yourself.”
Him: “Is this what usually happens in here?”
Wow! If it wasn’t awkward before, it certainly was at that moment, “Um, is what usually what happens?”
Him: “Talking between stalls. This doesn’t happen in the men’s room. It’s kinda weird.”
The mirror reflected my amusement and surprise. He was right, it was kinda weird but that was only one layer. I turned the water off at the sink, ditched the paper towel in the trash, called out a goodbye and exited. Heading for the elevator I chortled and wonder to myself how many times I must have just missed those pink knees.
.
Too funny and too weird. He didn’t ask if you could spare a square?
*Guffaw* No he didn’t ask – that would have added another layer of wacky weirdness to the moment for sure!
Thanks for checking out the site Kevin.
This is hilarious! And it’s the kind of thing people don’t talk about. I can see this in a stand-up comic’s routine.
So glad you too see the humor – one of those somewhat awkward moments you’re compelled to tell.
Funny post. Thanks, Maria!
Thnx Ana, glad I got you to giggle, on a Monday at that! *grin*
Well, if he was there for more privacy because he had to do something that requires it, I wouldn’t have waited for him to finish either. I’d sooner find another bathroom. But that’s pretty bold of him to go to the female side. I’d throw a fit. I like the segregation of male and female. In terms of bathrooms, that is. Strange, I’ve always thought that male bathrooms had stalls, too.
Sherry, It was odd but I saw humor in it then and still do. I’m guilty of using the men’s room (usually at bars when the ladies’ line is too long) on occasion and can tell you some have stalls and some don’t – given the cheapness of that employer and the bldg mgmnt, I’m just glad there were doors on the stalls.
Yeah, so… do women normally talk in the ladies’ room between stalls?
Ha! Christopher, Don’t think there’s a written ordinance but generally we don’t
For me, finding a male coworker there was the oddest part.
Okay, more confirmation that both camps are more alike than we care to admit. For the record, though, had it been me in there (which it never, ever would have), I wouldn’t have said a thing to you unless you were storming the stall with a TV news crew.
Therein lies the rub… had I KNOWN what I was walking into – I’d have brought paparazzi