Monday

[amy] Worst Bathroom Experience- Ever

I went down to Putney this past Saturday with my sister to do some yarn shopping at the Green Mountain Spinnery and some basket shopping at Basketville. The spinnery's "shop" was small 9'x9' room and our browsing consisted of rotating our bodies in a slow circle. We picked out some yarn, asked directions to Basketville and left.

As soon as we entered, we saw that the place was huge and offered many other kitcheny things besides a billion baskets. I got directions from a clerk to the restroom and told Barbara I'd catch up with her.

Down the center isle, to the left, behind a portico, through an open door, I found the unisex bathroom. I closed the door behind me as I noted the single stall and two urinals on the wall next to it. I went into the stall and saw a shit streaked clump of toilet paper floating in the bowl. Gagging, I flushed the toilet with my foot while I turned to hang my purse and coat on the door.

I turned back around to see that the toilet had not flushed and that the water had risen to within an inch of the rim. Fearing overflow, I grab the nearby plunger, gingerly slide it into the water and set to work. While plunging, I began to think about all the shit covered hands that have no doubt used this plunger before me. Finally, I succeed in making all the water go down and was just putting the plunger back next to the tank as I hear the door open.

Footsteps entered and stopped next to my stall, facing the wall. Facing the urinal! A man! A man was going to pee right next to me. My brain started to overload and completely shut down. I didn't know what do so I did nothing. So there's a man next to me, sounding like ... ... ... ... And I'm in the stall next to him, sounding like ... ... ... ... We're both completely silent, waiting for the other one to do something. Had he had sneaked a peek under the stall wall, he could have seen my feet sort-of facing him, since I finished putting the plunger away as soon as he entered.

Then my phone goes off. It's a little muffled since it's inside my purse, under my coat but it rings. It rings again. We're both completely silent. Why isn't he peeing? It rings again. And again. One last time and then it returns to being completely silent in the bathroom again. Then the man turns around and walks out of the bathroom. Just like that. No washing of hands. I didn't even hear a zipper zip.

I pee, change my "feminine things" and flush the toilet only to see that the applicator didn't go down. Not wanting to freak out any men, I grab the shitty plunger and start plunging again, tears beginning to trickle down my face as I think about how this has been the most nightmarish bathroom experience of my life. I leave the stall to see that the man was in such a hurry to leave, he left the door wide open. As I scrub my hands raw with soap, I see a sign that says "Men" on the door. How did I miss it?

I leave the bathroom and see my sister approaching me. Her eyes are wide and she says, "Amy, the prices here are amazing!" She smiles, wait for me to react. I say, "We need to get out of here, now. Immediately." I'm looking around the shopping area to see any man with shoes I recognize. We ended up staying (the prices were, in fact, amazing) and I told her about my horrible bathroom experience.

2 comments:

Bill said...

You have my sympathies for your nightmarish experience, however...

If that's the worst bathroom experience of your life, you have apparently never a. worked on a construction site, or b. attended Marlboro College.

I'll spare you the construction site details and just mention that Marlboro dorms sport co-ed bathrooms and while most students just get over their opposite-sex skittishness, that first freshman semester is an eye-opener. I mean, not just co-ed toilets, co-ed showers too. Imagine having to engage in your morning elimination of the previous day's meals with a bunch of chatty Kathy's just outside the stall. At least men are politely quiet.

I actually did let go of a lot of arbitrary and useless phobias about that stuff while I was there, but I was happy to return to the world of segregated facilities.

amy said...

Yeah, I guess in the whole realm of "bad bathroom experiences", mine isn't so bad. I could have accidentally stepped in poop, or as an Upper Valley urban legend goes, the words "Welcome to the Jungle" could have been scrawled across the wall with human feces.