Public Restroom Rendezvous

Public bathrooms can be a source of embarrassment, awkwardness, and stress, especially for women. I know that some of my friends will trek to bathrooms on other floors or areas of their building to avoid running into people they work with after using the facilities. Or some people will wait in a stall until the whole bathroom is empty and then rush to finish their business before someone else enters the abode and sits in the stall right next to them. I know that many females, myself included, will go to great lengths to avoid an unnecessary bathroom run-in, going through added efforts for a smooth and worry-free bathroom experience.

One of the reasons that shared bathroom use can be so embarrassing is because some of the people in this world are really very strange. Not too long ago I sat in a stall next to a woman that was talking on her cell phone, speaking to the other person on the line between flatulent release and excrement discharge. Not only was this awkward because everyone in the bathroom could hear her conversation, I’m sure whoever was on the phone with her had the pleasure of listening to her bodily functions along with me.

Another bizarre situation that I experienced in a public bathroom not too long ago, was a woman belting out a song while dropping a D. She would even stop between verses to grunt and she strained herself to finish her business.

And unfortunately I have even had the opportunity to watch someone pick at their toenails from under my stall wall. They bent each toenail back, using their equally unmanicured fingernails to rip the mangled toenails off. I felt like passing her a nail clipper under the stall, and if I had had one, I probably would have. Also, not only was the toenail picking disgusting, she was bent so far over in order to reach her feet, that the automatic toilet flusher kept going off – over and over and over again. I can’t even imagine all of the splashing involved.

Along with these few examples of strange bathroom encounters, I can’t even begin to describe to you ones that I have witnessed at bars, while drunk, at 3 in the morning in downtown Buffalo. Use your imaginations – it’s as gruesome as you think.

Gas Pass

There’s a guy that sits across from my cube at work. His name is Sachin. The other day I got to work early and was diligently checking my email when I heard giggling from across the way. I glanced over and Sachin was tittering hysterically. “I farted,” he said between frantic snickers. Had he remained silent no one would have ever known about his gas.

Deja Vu

You know what’s creepy? When you meet someone in person for the first time and feel like you are having déjà vu. You just know that you have seen them someplace before, and as you exchange pleasantries, you wrack your brain to place the face. You converse and share stories, and all of a sudden you realize where you know this person from. You remember who they are dating, their brothers and sisters, their best friend, how they looked in high school... You know this person from your expert stalking on Facebook. Weird.

Mr. Peaches

During my first week at my new job, I was killing some time by washing some peaches at the communal sink near the refrigerators. I don’t know why, but I always wash my fruit – something about the sticky way fruit skin feels from pesticides that gives me the heeby-jeebies and convinces me that I’d rather my fruit smell slightly like dishwashing soap before consuming.

Anyways, as I was diligently washing my fruit, a voice from beside me said seductively “Mmmm are those peachessss? Do you always wash your peachessss?” “Umm, yes,” was my response. “Wow, those peaches look soooo juicyyy,” Ew, was all that I was thinking, but I managed a small smile. “I’m going to have to start washing my peachessss.” His conversation topic was nothing short of disturbing, so I quickly finished washing and scampered away.

Weird peach dude was quickly forgotten until one day I saw him staring at me from across the department – like 20 cubes away. Oh no, I thought, and ducked my head low, using my cube walls as protection. Once again, I pushed Mr. Peach to the back of my mind, until the other night when I was leaving work.

As I left my department, he was in front of me and held the door open. I thanked him politely and continued on my way. Unfortunately, before being able to exit the building there were three more doors that needed opening before finally escaping outside. Mr. Peaches dutifully opened all of them for me and smiled at me creepily as I passed through each one. By the time the cold air hit my face as I walked outside, I thanked him one last time for holding open the door for me. He looked right at me, winked, and said with a sly, creepy grin, “I’m sure you’ll be able to think of some way to thank me in the future.” Ummm, no, that’s not going to happen, but needless to say, I’ve started walking out of the building with friends after my work day. And so far I have had no further run-ins with Mr. Peaches.