I don’t know what got into me today. Early morning coffee with cream and one sugar served as an immediate diuretic causing me to seek out a restroom before my meet-up with my ‘bestie. Marble floors, recessed lighting, and fresh flowers reminded me that I was indeed in a high-end hotel bathroom.
I was beginning my ritual in the stall, layering the toilet seat with 3, 4 maybe 5 toilet seat covers before unzipping my black, jean leggings. The amount of urine I felt full of was not worthy of a pee-squat. I had to sit my butt down and let the stream take its flow.
I took my seat right as the adjacent stall took on its newcomer. What caught my eye was the red suede shoes with the black 4-inch wooden heels and meticulous, tiny black stitching around the tip of the shoes. Super expensive, imported shoes. The issue? There was a huge piece of white something that resembled a smeared cotton ball hanging on the tip of the right shoe. The left shoe didn’t have it, so I knew it wasn’t part of the design.
I finished just as my next stall mate was beginning her business. I stared at the shoes and let out a deep, quiet breath. I couldn’t take it anymore–that piece of whatever it was didn’t belong on the shoe and apparently, my stall mate didn’t care that it ruined the whole look. So, me being me, I instinctively reached under the adjacent stall and snatched that piece of irritating, string of an eye soar from the shoe.
Well, I realized that was a stupid idea when I heard the ungrateful broad peeing in the stall next to me yell, “Hey! What the hell is your problem?”
I knew then that today wasn’t going to be a good day.
Author: Monique Gilmore Scott