Here's a story about the bathroom

Yesterday I had a business lunch at a fancy lunch place, which, as we all know, is where you go when you need to business in the middle of the day. First thing I did when I got there, after greeting my date in the work-appropriate manner (passionate frenching) was visit the bathroom. I had just emerged from the subway, and there is no way, after riding the subway, I can sit and eat anything until I scour myself from the elbows down. Maybe also the face. Maybe my face touched something. I can't be 100% sure it didn't.

Before I've even entered a restaurant, I fret over the location of the bathroom. Restaurants enjoy hiding their restrooms so that you have to wander about, sometimes finding yourself in the kitchen before someone sets you straight. This is how the restaurant staff gets back at you for making them feed you. I hate this. I hate walking around with that look on my face. That "I'm acting as I know exactly where I'm going, and I'm about to march straight into a supply closet" look. And then there are the places that can't just indicate "Men" and "Women" on their separate bathroom doors. They have to get cute about it. And you standing in front of the two doors, wondering, "Damn it all, am I a 'Buckaroo' or a 'Cowpoke'?"

Fortunately, my initial worry was alleviated right off the bat. Before I had even sat down, the waitress saw my haunted I Touched Subway expression and pointed me toward the restrooms. She was clearly new at her job, and hadn't learned to loathe us.

The bathroom door had a W on it, which I swear I hesitated about for half a second. "Is that 'Women,' or 'Whoa, This Room's for Dudes'?" I wondered. This was a classy establishment, however, so I was fairly confident in my decision as I strode in.

Here's what happened next. As I was closing the door to one of the stalls, I got my shoe stuck underneath it. I looked down at the shoe and the stall door and tried to figure out how I had managed to wedge my foot in such a painful manner, and I pulled on the door, hard, which is when it came loose and slammed into the front of my skull. I then fell back, where the toilet was, and had to fling both arms out to brace myself against the sides of the stall. Which caused my leather-soled flats to slide on the tiled floor, just enough that I landed, hard, right on the toilet seat. This all happened in a few seconds. WEDGE-SLAM-FALL-BRACE-WHOOPS-THUD. It was fantastic. My head hurt a lot.

I was inexpressibly thankful that I was alone, and no one had witnessed this ludicrous display. (Nor did anyone see me attempt to close the door again, once I had recovered, and find that the door wouldn't latch, and then go to the next stall, and then the next, before realizing the mechanism that latched the door was a turn-y thing and not a pull-y whatsit. I blame the head trauma for this.)

I swore no one would ever know of my embarrassing episode, so naturally I immediately told my lunch date. And then I got home and told Scott and Henry. And now I am telling you.

Comments

[Siobhan]

thank you, I just started the day crying with laughter. I mean! Crying for you! Because that's awful! Is your foot okay?

[Jessica]

I love this post! You make me laugh so much, your writing is wonderful.

[Cindy]

There are so many moments in our lives when we have to be so thankful that we're not in our own version of the Truman Show.

[Aaron Wolfe]

I suffer from a similar ailment, and experience, as a guy, something I call "Euphorinal": the unique feeling one gets when turning the corner in a bathroom and, upon seeing the urinal, thinks "oh thank god I'm not in the wrong place. Again."

Not sure exactly what the opposite would be called but I'm sure it would involve slamming heads on toilets, etc.

[You can call me, 'Sir']

I ask the following with the requisite love and respect felt for a complete stranger who sometimes writes stuff: How do you live? How have you survived this long and, against all logic or will, continue to survive?

[Kate in Ohio]

Thanks, you made my day.

[karen]

to die for funny. I know the method of telling your own embarrassing moments before anyone else does, it works well. Thanks for the laugh.

[Bellacantare]

This needs to be a scene in Tina Fey's next movie. Thanks for sharing - we've all been there (in some way). :-)

[califmom]

I should have peed before reading this. Now, we all know what happened on my end, too.

[Moose]

Yesterday I had to walk through a door labeled "Ovaries." Still not sure how I feel about that.

[Lori]

I knew as I started to read this story that I shouldn't read it at work and yet I did. So now I'm that person trying to surreptitiously wipe tears (real tears) from my eyes as my throat makes that "huh-huh-huh" silent, out of control laughter sound and my shoulders shake with each "huh".

Awesome story.

And now I must read it again, the tears and "huh"ing blurred some of the detail.

[Elizabeth @ Table for Five]

OW. Funny story, but still, OW.

[Vanessa]

@Aaron Wolfe - that's how I feel when I enter the women's restroom and see the tampon machine!

[Meredith]

at least you weren't suddenly wearing eau de toilette when you joined your date.

[Sarah]

My Mum just asked me: "What are you cackling at?" She will be made to read this now. For it is brilliant.

[Kayte]

I have always told my children that the most embarrassing incidents make the very best stories. It is oh-so-awful at the time, but the years of story-telling mileage you will get out of it is priceless. And I know this because in middle school I got stuck inside my locker and had to be crow-barred out of it by the school janitor...in front of a packed hallway of rubber-necking students. Can you imagine stepping out of your locker wearing your coat and backpack and trying to look nonchalant? I'm still mortified, but boy do people love hearing about it!

[Katie]

I love you.

[Average Jane]

Ow! (And I apologize for how much I laughed when I read it.)

[Meegan]

I really, really needed a good laugh. Thanks. My kids think they're quite funny and in their own way, they are, but truly I was just laughing at the sight of you launching backwards onto a toilet. Lovely. I mean that in the nicest way possible.

[Elsa]

In my imagination as I picture this, you're dressed to the nines a la Patricia Neal in Breakfast at Tiffany's: sleek tailored suit, a perfectly shaped lipstick kiss, spotless gloves, marrrrrrrrvvvvvvelously chic hat, a shiny handbag slung lightly over your forearm, gleaming pointy-toes stilettos slipping across the perfectly polished floor.

What I'm saying: even as you sprawl across the bathroom floor, you're a deliciously glamourous storyteller, Alice.

[Ellen Pober Rittberg]

Thankyouthankyou thank you for sharing. This story is the story of my life. Every time I think I've done the last really stupid darnfool clutzy hazardous-to-my-or other-people's-health thing, I find I've done another stupid thing. Which is why, if I didn't write humor, I'd be a total basket case!Cheers.Ellen Pober Rittberg, author and parenting writer, "35 Things Your Teen Won't Tell You So I Will."erittberg@gmail.com

[shriek house]

Oh my golly, I love this MORE than the time I spent half a day wandering around with the back of my skirt tucked into my underwear. MUCH MORE.

[Pamela]

Hilarious! Even though I, as your lunch date, have heard it before ;-) Thanks for lunching with me, my dear. It was lovely, and it gave me an excuse to go to a fancy place. You frightened me away from the bathrooms, though...

[Jenny]

And I thought I was the only one who mixed up the whole Cowpoke/Buckaroo thing, but I always pretend like I know what I'm doing lest anyone think I'm clueless. So maybe I'm not as clueless as I thought. Thanks! And thanks for the laugh!

[Kim]

@Moose -- what did the other door say, if yours said "Ovaries?"