I was at a mall I rarely go to, and needed to use the restroom and relieve my bowels.  So I hurried up some escalators, and into the restroom.  I was alone in the room, and there was something a bit off that I could not quite put my finger on, but I did not dwell on it.

Sitting in the stalls, I became annoyed by the voice of someone who had walked in, talking on a cell-phone.  It was a whiny, teenage girl’s voice, seemed typical of a sort.  For a second I dwelled on that, and then something more profound hit me: whiny teenage girl.

I sat there, embarrassed, thinking if I wait just long enough I could make a gracious and unnoticed break.  I noticed under the stall a woman linger in front of my stall, and my hyper-conciousness imagined her looking askew at my worn shoes — nothing particularly notable about them, but I can’t imagine a woman wearing them.

I knew there was a woman standing in the sink area, and I knew that there would be no gracious exit.  So I just upped and ran, figuring that from a distance I’ve been identified as female before (long hair), so perhaps I’ll be fine.

I sped from the inoffensive light pink walls of the woman’s room to the inoffensive light blue walls of the men’s room to wash my hands.  And it was there that I identified the “bit off” of my restroom experience.  As well the fact that there were more stalls in the ladies’ room.

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