Thursday, May 29, 2014

Are Those Pretty Bitty Shoes Pinching Your Brain Too?

I had a bit of shopping to do on the way home. As is usual, my first stop is the restroom, and WalMart has nice big ones. As I proceeded down the row towards one of the handicap stalls, always at the end, I heard another woman in a stall I needed to pass yakking away on her cell phone. I couldn't avoid hearing her, loud as she was, but it just wasn't a conversation I was interested in eavesdropping on. What little I heard sounded like girly gossip about people I didn't care to know. I had a much more important goal in mind.

As I was pulling my door shut, and seemingly without a break in the cell conversation, I heard a clear, "Sir, I think you're in the wrong restroom."

I decided to ignore her.


Oh shit, not another one. I'm starting to get fed up with these. It's one thing to get addressed as "sir" on the job, where the uniform is the first impression and people are used to men filling it. There I put on the charm, open my mouth, and let the high voice clue them in to their error. It's another thing to have some bimbo think she could chase me out of a restroom when I had a pretty urgent reason to be there.

But what did this twit think she'd seem through the gap in her stall next to the door while she was busy yakking away? Navy shorts, light blue short sleeves, short white hair and comfy shoes. Walking past, other than her voice, to me she was just a shadow to politely ignore through that same gap.

So many retorts flashed through my mind. I could challenge her stereotypes of femininity. I could explain to her that senior citizens didn't need to fuss with skirts and high heels, at least not in my world. I could probably get away with any number of things since I doubted she'd actually still be there to see the uniform and take offense at the company by the time I left. I could do absolutely nothing and let her continue to freak out. I could try a suggestive response in a deep voice to help her along in her freakout... if I had a deep voice. I can't even fake it. I could ask her if she was so paranoid about the possibility of a man walking in, then why on earth was she doing her business in a public restroom? One with not only no lock on the front door, no door on the front door. I could challenge her by offering to let her see my qualifications for using the facilities, if she'd let me see hers! I could....

The overabundance of possibilities left me unable to choose the best retort. I settled for just letting my attitude of contempt ooze through, "I'm not a guy!"

I'd like to think it was embarrassment that had her shut up, end her phone conversation immediately, and leave the restroom without even flushing or washing her hands.

On the other hand, it could be a character flaw.

No comments: