THE INNER WORKINGS...

un recuerdo: stalling in the stall

Yesterday I went into a coffee shop near our office to take advantage of "Happy Hour". No, it's not the kind of coffee shop that slips a little somethin'-somethin' in your drink. But, on Wednesday, between the hours of 2:00-4:00 PM, they'll sell you a drink of your choice for two dollars. And that, friends, constitutes a "Happy Hour".

But I digress. While we were waiting for our two dollar blended beverages at said coffee shop, I had to excuse myself to use the restroom. As I walked in, I realized I had never seen those yellow walls with different colored flip-flops painted on them. Which I thought was odd, because I knew that I had previously visited the facilities at that fine establishment. And then I remembered. Last time, I had used the men's restroom by accident. Didn't even realize it until I walked out and someone ratted me out. And that, of course, reminded me of the time that I was in McDonalds in La Plata and... well, let's just start at the beginning.

It was probably June of last year. Tabo (the new city director in La Plata... a.k.a. my replacement) and I were having coffee at McDonalds (like you do if you're on staff in La Plata). It was the one on the corner of 8 and 49, in case you were wondering. So there we were... discussing the ins and outs of ministry... and all of the sudden, from out of nowhere came the strong and overwhelming urge to... close your ears, ladies... vomit. Which is strange, because God has given me two particular spiritual gifts in this life: a stomach of steel and the ability to sleep anywhere at any time. (Really, they're the best gifts a girl could get if she decides to spend a good deal of her life on airplanes.)

I warned Tabo of my condition and ran upstairs. Now, I don't mean to be graphic, but it's important that you understand the urgency with which I bounded up the stairs and bolted for the baño. I mean, I sincerely thought that I was going to embarrass myself right there on the stairs of the Golden Arches. With the intensity of a heat-seeking missile, I threw open the bathroom door and ran to the stall.

At this point in the story, I'm pleased to admit that there is no need to report any unfortunate events. Well, except for one.

As I was regaining my composure there in the bathroom stall, relieved that the nausea had disappeared as quickly as it had come on, I took a few deep breaths. And then I heard a cough. A man's cough. Startled, I wondered, "What in the world is a man doing in the women's bathroom?" But I didn't dare open the door. "Poor guy," I thought, "wandering into the ladies' room. And he doesn't even know it."

But then the doubt set in. I couldn't remember seeing urinals (the tell-tale sign of a men's bathroom) on my way in. And I had been to that McDonalds about a million times, and had used the bathroom on at least half of those visits. That's why I knew that the women's bathroom was the first door on the left. And I had run in to the first door on the left. But, in any case, I knew that I couldn't escape from the stall with the man in the bathroom... I didn't want to embarrass him more than he would be when he realized the error of his ways upon exiting the women's room. So I waited.

Someone special must have been waiting outside too. That's the only reason that I can imagine this man would spend about ten minutes in front of the mirror checking his teeth for sesame seeds. (Let's be honest, they make the hamburger bun about twenty times better, but those shifty little things always seem to make their way into the crevices between those pearly whites.) When he finally left, I knew it was my chance.

I slowly opened the door, making sure I was alone, and much to my surprise, there, on the wall opposite me... were the urinals. Embarrassed, and feeling a bit guilty for pitying the man who was, in fact, in the right place, just as quickly as I had charged into the bathroom, I ran out, hoping that no one would spy me.

I think that we can take a life lesson from these experiences. And that is the following: if you ever find yourself with me in a restaurant or coffee shop, please help find the appropriate lavatory. I would be very appreciative of your cooperation.

posted by Courtney @ 12:46 AM