Because of my wee bladder, I spend approximately half my life waiting in line for bathrooms. But I don’t trip! If I’ve gotta be there, I will find a way to have fun cuz that’s just me. Whether it’s doing a spirited dance to whatever music is playing, or bragging loudly to other women that I’m next in line, I always find a vibrant community in the bathroom line. We are sisters in the struggle!
Except at the Royal Cuckoo one night, where I stood in line with a Total Bitch.
Now. I use the word bitch quite liberally, to both men/women/children/pets alike. Like “What’s up bitch, you want dinner?” (said to my cat.) or, …..”Hey bitches, you got any gum?” (said to a group of school kids). Or “You’re one sloppy-hot bitch,” (to my reflection in the mirror, every time I see it.)
My point: In my world, bitch is always a term of endearment or joyful exclamation, and never an insult. In fact, I encounter so few actual bitches that I don’t really even have a word for the woman at the Royal Cuckoo bathroom line.]
So, we’re both standing there, waiting in line to pee…Me, and this blonde lady who’s name is probably Kirsten or something. It’s taking a really long time. So long that I surmised the person in the bathroom, was either shooting up, dropping a death deuce, or painting a fresco with lip-liner.
I leaned back against the wall and promised my bladder sweet relief soon. EXCEPT THE WALL WASN’T A WALL! It was some sort of flimsy divider thing.. (Sheet? Projector screen? Cardboard?) This, of course, caused me to stumble backwards, baffled, knocking the screen sideways. Then I started laughing, imagining how it must have looked, because how funny is it when someone leans against a wall THAT IS NOT A WALL?
Kirsten, sensing a disturbance in the atmosphere, glanced briefly back at me, and then back to the bathroom door. As I brushed myself off, still laughing, I said to her “God, what IS this thing anyway?”
Kirsten then slowly turned her head, looked directly through me for a few seconds, said ABSOLUTELY NOTHING and then slowly turned her head back to the door.
Now, if she’d just ignored me, I might have just assumed she was deaf, and not taken it personally. But she turned, gave me a full look, AND THEN DECIDED I WASN’T WORTH ADDRESSING AT ALL.
Here is a list of things that could have been said, in answer to “God, what IS this thing anyway?”
- I don’t know
- It’s a schooner!
- Appears to be muslin cloth, stretched between two fishing poles. I saw it on pinterest!
- I don’t know, but I’m about 10 seconds away from kakking my jeggings.
- It’s a privacy screen. Want to make out?
- Heh. Beats me.
- Whatever, hipster
- (shrugs shoulders)
- (nervous laugh)
- A portal to another dimension?
- Your mom
- MY mom?
- FUCK YOU, DEMON WITCH CHILD!
Any response would be infinitely better than what I got. Which was basically. “Oh, is a human voice speaking to me? Is it Siri? No, Siri is in my hand, she is always there. Does the speaking human look rich and equal/greater than me in status? No? DISREGARD HUMAN VOICE IT IS LOWLY AND NOT WORTH ACKNOWLEDGING. COMMENCE TO QUIETLY KAKKING JEGGINGS AND STARING AT BATHROOM DOOR.
And that’s all I’ve got. Thank you.