Recently I was informed that I’m doing much better in crowds than I used to. How’d this come up? We were riding the mall shuttle and I didn’t hyper-ventilate I suppose. As for this “bubble” that my dear beloved claims I have, I call it personal space. Everyone needs some. I don’t need people I don’t know standing right next to me. Ever. Getting in my grill, if you like.
Which in my stream-of-consciousness brain leads to the topic of public bathroom manners.
Imagine three stalls. The row begins just past the sinks. The last stall is bounded by a wall. If you’re the only person in there, which stall do you choose? The first because statistics say it’s most likely to be the cleanest? The end because its coincidentally the handicapped stall and you like the extra space? Or the middle stall? The bathroom only services two corporate suites on the floor. Which do you choose?
If the restroom is empty, don’t choose the middle one. Why? Well, now when I wander in there I am forced to do my business RIGHT NEXT TO YOU. If you had chosen one of the ends, we’d still be separated by an empty stall. We would have a buffer zone. A DMZ. Not that either of us should be making any noises. At all. It is, after all, a shared space. And! girls don’t poop. So, there’s no need to make noise. Ever.
Also, a public restroom is not a place to carry on a conversation. For one, you never know whose toes those are sticking out from under the door. (Not that you would look, right?) If you and I head into a public multi-stall restroom together I will talk to you right up to the point my hand touches the stall door. I will stop mid-sentence if necessary. After that? My invisible shield goes up and I can no longer hear you. You can choose to talk. I will not answer. I am busy. And if I finish the task at hand before you, I will not answer you if you are still sitting on the can. Period. We can regroup at the sinks.
Hmm, in black and white like this is sort of sounds like I have an issue.
Do you talk to people in the bathroom?