Ok, so the story goes like this…
This evening Mr. Sparky and I decided to spend the Olive Garden gift card my parents gave me for Christmas. We had a nice, leisurely dinner and on our way out of the restaurant decided that it would be wise to use the restroom facilities before leaving.
Mr. Sparky went to the left to the men’s room, and I slipped into the ladies’ room. I turned to go into the first stall when I noted that it was one of those odd stalls where the toilet was so off-set that there’s not really room to maneuver. I turned around and decided to go into the next stall. As I was doing so it registered that someone else was in the restroom, peeing. But as I was closing the door behind me in the second stall, it also registered that I’d just seen every stall door open, as if the restroom was empty. Except I could clearly hear that it wasn’t.
Where the heck was that noise coming from, anyway? It sounded like it was in the stall right next to me, but that door has been open so it couldn’t have been. I mean, someone wouldn’t have…they couldn’t be…
I looked down. And there at the edge of the stall next door, right up against mine, was a large Nike….pointed the wrong way.
NO WAY! My heart lurched. I wheeled around and peeked through the crack in my door to check out the mirror over the sinks that were facing the stalls. Sure enough…I could see some guy standing in the stall next to me, taking a whiz, with the stall door open. NO WAY! NO WAY!
My first thought was to grab my stuff and get out of there before he was done peeing, but I realized I didn’t really have time to do that. The last thing I wanted to do was end up face-to-face with him in the restroom sink area! I stood there frozen. I could not get my mind around the fact that there was a MAN in the Olive Garden ladies’ room, peeing with the stall door wide open! NO FREAKIN’ WAY!
He was an older gentleman (I use that word rather loosely, and I don’t mean the word “older”). The only reason I could think of for a man peeing with the stall door wide open in the Olive Garden ladies’ room was that maybe he’d had a bit too much Chianti with his lasagne. Ok, a lot too much. Because I’d think the lack of urinals in a public restroom would be the first clue that just maybe this wasn’t the men’s room and it might be worth a double-check.
I stood there paralyzed. I mean, NO WAY was I going to use the restroom while he was still in there! And then I heard the door open and someone else come in. I looked through my door crack again and saw that it was one of the hostesses. I don’t know if she just happened to come in or if she’d seen him wander in there and was coming to flush him out, so to speak. I heard her say “sir, this is the women’s restroom”. He mumbled something, and she repeated it. I heard him say “It is?” , as if it’s normal for female hostesses to go into the men’s room to give them public service announcements. And then they both left.
Dude didn’t even wash his hands.
When I left the restroom a few minutes later, Mr. Sparky was waiting outside for me. I glanced at the hostess stand and every last hostess was looking at me and grinning, so I know darn well they knew I’d gotten stuck in there with the Wandering Whizzer. Mr. Sparky took one look at my face and said “what?” I made him wait until we were safely outdoors before I told him the story.
I think I may be permanently scarred.