Hello, Neighbor

Living alone, I don’t shut doors. I leave the bathroom door open, mainly because this allows me to continue hearing my music. But why shut it? Who’s going to come in? Well, yesterday I was about to head to my girlfriend’s spontaneous cocktail party and decided to quickly go to the bathroom before I hopped in the car. So I'm in the half bath right off my kitchen. My mind was racing with things I didn’t want to forget…birthday candles to put in the cupcakes my friend made for another friend’s birthday, plastic forks…and then…oh my. OH MY. There’s my neighbor! He had just gotten his mail and was strolling down the street past my place. All he needed to do was glance through my big kitchen window, and well, there I was. Going to the bathroom. I could have waved. He could have nodded. Hello, neighbor! Thankfully, I stretched just enough, reached the door and gave it a good swing; it caught just enough to stay shut.

This reminded me of the Timberwolves game last year. I went with some friends and in between quarters got up to the use the bathroom. Only if you’re at some really lame concert or sporting event where there aren’t many people do you get to select which of the 500 stalls you want. Normally you just go to the one most recently opened. No questions asked. I always wonder what would happen if, when one opened, I just didn’t go in. The person behind me would probably give me a nudge and say, "um, hello, that one’s open." I’d politely smile and "yes, I know. I want the next one." Anyways, so Timberwovles game. There were a lot of people. I didn’t have a choice. So, I’m in my designated stall, and I glance to the right and realize that, that’s funny. Where there normally is a little silver trash container and then toilet paper built in, there was nothing. For a split second I thought how weird that they’d put a square mirror right there in its place, because I could see my thigh and my...wait…that is SO not my thigh or my…OH MY GOSH! There’s a hole and there’s the woman in the next stall. Hello neighbor!

I looked around and with one hand was probably making the gesture as if in front of an audience…can you believe this? I mean really!? But there was no one there to participate. Well, no built-in thing to hold the toilet paper meant there was no toilet paper. So, for a split second I contemplated putting my hand through the little “window” and asking the woman next to me… "I see that you’re done, would you mind passing me some TP?” (Gray Poupon-style...pun intended) , but I couldn’t do it. I rummaged through my purse conveniently hanging from the hook on the inside of the door and grabbed a couple Kleenex. I kind of wanted to forewarn the next woman in line who was about to enter this stall, but at this point I was chuckling to myself and decided nope. Survival of the fittest in this here bathroom in the Target Center.

And the fittest:
Shut the door.
Are aware of surroundings.
Always carry Kleenex.
And carry little containers of Purell!