This afternoon, I had an eye doctor appointment. After taking April to have her eyes checked, I realized it had been a very long time since I had taken care of mine. The eye doctors I had been to before had changed their private practices to the optical centers at my least favorite retailer…you know…the one that rhymes with Wall-Fart.
It seems like every time I go there, it’s been at the end of a trying day, when my patience and goodwill toward mankind are at their lowest ebb. Today was no exception. I was not feeling well and was exhausted. And I had to pee.
With a few minutes to spare before the appointment was to begin, I walked into the front door of the store, past a surly and NOT GREETING ANYONE greeter. I headed straight past the optical department to the restrooms, noticing with disgust as I walked in that there was a diaper vending machine but no tampax machine. I was alone, fortunately, because out of the two stalls, one had an “Out of Order” sign taped to its door. The other, the handicap stall, was filthy.
I didn’t really have a choice–I had to go. I used two of the paper toilet seat covers and when I was done, I could feel grit and grime crackling beneath the soles of my sandals. I heard shuffling and splashing outside the door and when I opened it, I was appalled to see that the custodian, a MALE custodian, was standing there, UNANNOUNCED, changing the trash can liner. Stepping forward, I saw three other people who must have entered the bathroom while I was in the one functioning stall. They had their backs to me.
Peeing in the urinals lining the wall.
Yes, boys and girls…..I had walked straight into a Wall-Fart MEN’S ROOM and hung my purse in a stall, peed, and then walked out. I walked straight past everyone there, looking ahead and not making eye contact. I sped around the corner and out the front door of the building, running to a sheltered spot by a bench to call a friend at the office.
She laughed and laughed and laughed at me. I was so mortified–mainly because I still had to go back into the building for my eye doctor appointment.
When Dr. Williams asked how my vision had been since my last visit, all I could say, in a strangled voice, was that I was pretty sure my eyesight was getting worse.
Allison said to tell you that this made me laugh so hard, I wheezed, snorted and flopped around on the couch like a spastic walrus.
Hands down, this was the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Men’s rooms have diaper vending machines? Gee, I bet those get a lot of use.
Anyway, you made me LAUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh my god… you do need your eyes checked. That is hysterical. I bet the women’s restroom was just as nasty though.
That was hysterical! Unfortunately I’ve become well aquainted with nasty restrooms here in Africa. And they are frequently either missing toilet paper or toilet seats.
In South Africa, the restrooms were much cleaner but one VERY NICE restaurant had nude wood carvings on the restroom doors to indicate the male and female restrooms! Nice thing for your eight-year-old daughther to have to view.
Hahahahahahaha!!! I think I broke something….
I still think you should have stopped the janitor and said, ” You better clean this place up, it’s starting to look like a men’s restroom.”
O.M.G. Too funny!
So men really are pigs, huh?
That was pretty funny.
Once, when I was a kid, I chanced upon my father in a public restroom (we’d both gotten up to pee at separate times) and we stood there having an argument about who had walked into the wrong restroom. The answer came shortly after when a third person joined us in there. I was right. Perhaps it’d been a while since dad’s last eye exam.
Restrooms get dirtier as you drive south. It starts at the Kansas/Nebraska border. After I stop in around Oklahoma City I avoid drinking any more liquids until I make it to my parents home in Texas. Its only about 250 miles south of OK City. Maybe I ought to get some of those astronaut diapers.
Oh Mary, Mary, Mary…I’ve always loved how you charge forth with a vengence. ;-) Unfortunately, it’s the retreat that always catches us up short! What a hoot! I would loved to have been the recipient of that phone call!!!
Mary I couldn’t help but chuckle at your experience. I can imagine the embarrassment . But don’t worried I think a lot of people have done what you did. I know I have and my wife does it all the time. Sometimes on purpose because that darn ladies room line is just way too long. When you got to go you got to go.
A girls got to do what a girls got to do. Thanks for the laugh with my coffee.
Hahaha. That was a absolute classic. I think I would have hidden in the stall till the room was empty. I am still snorting away here at my desk and everyone in the office is staring at me. So yeah, loved your story.
LOL!! Oh, that’s funny!
Peace,
~Chani
http://thailandgal.blogspot.com
This past Sunday while at a visiting Rodeo with my husband, I peeked into the men’s room (the door was open- thought they did this only to women!) to see if he was on his way out=
and saw the jean-clad backsides of several official cowboys at the row of sinks.
Man, I wished I could have walked into the men’s room that day!
On one family trip to SC when my sister and I were kids, my mom and the two of us walked into the men’s room at almost every single place we used a public restroom for a whole 10 days.