Last night the Sparkette wanted to meet a friend to see a movie. The theatre they wanted to visit wasn’t in the best part of town, at least by night, and so Mr. Sparky and I drove her there, escorted her to the door to meet her friend, and then went to have dinner in the neighborhood so that when the movie was over we could meet the girls right away. It was my first visit to this restaurant.
Dinner was excellent, though the ambience provided by flourescent bulbs in ceiling fans and printed vinyl tablecloths left something to be desired. Mr. Sparky called it eclectic. I called it tacky. But dinner? That I called delicious. Penne with various shellfish in some sort of buttery white wine sauced laced with an arugula pesto. Plate-licking good.
But I used my bread, not my tongue. I’m classy like that.
We soon figured it was time to begin walking back to the Sparkymobile. I thought it might be a good idea to use the facilities before we left the premises, so I stepped into the ladies’ room.
My first thought was that it was awfully dimly lit in there. Compared to the multiple 100 watt fluorescent bulbs that lit our dinner, the single 40 watt incandescent overhead fixture was only about a Bic lighter’s worth of brilliance more than you’d find inside the average broom closet…with the door closed.
There were two stalls, and I chose one. I apparently chose wisely, because after a a few moments I began to hear rustling in the stall next to me and realized I wasn’t alone in the cave. My cave mate flushed and washed up at the sink and then headed for the door. As she pulled it open and walked through it, she turned off the light.
“Light, please!” I called out politely. She did not seem to hear and was almost through the door.
“LIGHT, PLEASE!” I was quickly feeling more frantic. She was so focused she wasn’t hearing me.
“LIGHT, PLEASE! LIGHT, PLEASE!” I thought it was dim in there before. Now pitch black was closing in!
She pushed the door back open, startled to have noticed a voice penetrating her concentration. “What?”
“Light, please!” I said again, still politely but with great urgency.
“Oh! I’m so sorry…it’s a habit!” she said as she flipped the switch back on and then moved on down the hall.
I was relieved that I wasn’t going to have to pee by the light of my iPhone (because I’m pretty sure there’s not an app for that), but I also knew that the entire exchange had likely been overheard by the folks standing outside the door. Sure enough, after I made my exit from the cave, Mr. Sparky grinned and said “You get the lights turned out on you?”
I don’t know how it is that I have these sorts of adventures in public restrooms. It wasn’t as traumatic as my last one, but still…