Wednesday, August 6, 2014

The bathroom is a private place

The only thing that would convince a 7 month pregnant woman to take 9 flights of stairs would be to avoid a possible encounter with a teacher after sleeping in through class that morning. 

I told myself that if I made it, I could eat one of those mini 6 donut packs. I would even get the crunch coconut kind as further incentive.

Putting those calories back where they belong.



Guess who got donuts :D

I needed to sit down (sprawl out) on a bench in the ladies' restroom afterwards. And pant like I was practicing for childbirth. Once I gathered my bearings, I realized I was perfumed by the sweat and tears of the hike. It was not a pleasant smell. My shift started in about T minus 2 minutes, and I didn't have have deodorant or anything to ward off the scent. In a situation like this, what do you do?

Well, you give yourself a good pat down. Anything sweaty gets wiped with a wet paper towel. Unless the canister runs out of paper towels, in which case you make do with toilet paper. Should that toilet paper dissolve on your skin and leave white flecks all over, quickly brush off the evidence. Pretend not to notice the trail of water now leading from your pits down your side. Finally, exit the bathroom, arms very close to your side, and head for the empty hall that leads you to your office. 

Or at least it looks empty. You never know when you might pass the mens' restroom and from within hear hymns being practiced on a clarinet.

As a clarinetist myself (who made 3rd chair only by default in high school), I can appreciate that nice, melodic, wooden hum. I can also relate to when you need your alone time in the restroom.

Even if it is a little odd to be practicing next to the urinals.

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