It was a normal Thursday morning in the office. Sleepy, but busy…and
delightfully eccentric as always. Christi was in the middle of veraciously
scribbling recruiting notes with her trusty purple pen…when all of a sudden,
mid-ramble-sentence, her pen decided to vomit a large portion of its purple
innards into her hand.
“Ah…shoot! I’ll be
right back Tino, my pen just exploded into my palm…gotta wash this…”
She excused herself, got up from her chair, and meandered
towards the women’s restroom down the hall. When she reached the bathroom, she
pushed the door open with her non-inked hand. And as the door cracked open, groaning
loudly in protest, she was greeted by dim lighting that suddenly flickered to
life upon her entrance. She assumed, due to the motion sensor lights…that she
was alone.
The warm water felt lovely as she began to vigorously scrub
the bright purple residue from the cracks in her palm. She giggled to herself and
realized she was awfully happy that there was nobody else in the restroom to witness
this cleanup. For, in her mind, as she watched the murky purple water spinning slowly
down the drain…it looked as if she was cleaning up from an alien massacre. A
cold thought perhaps, but a silly one too, considering she was not sure why she
always thought aliens to have purple blood...
Her eyes shifted from the scrubbing mess in the sink, to her
face in the mirror. “Lord. Have. Mercy.”
She mumbled to herself as she examined the dark circles under her eyes. “It’s most definitely a Thursday.”
As she blinked disappointedly into the mirror, she suddenly
realized one of the restroom stalls behind her was secured shut. Curious, she spun
180 degrees (splashing miniature droplets of diluted purple ink-water
everywhere) and shifted her focus to the lowermost portion of the bathroom
stall door.
“Is there someone in
that STALL!?” She thought rather excited. No. There couldn’t be. Nobody had come
in or out of the restroom since she had first arrived. Plus, the lights, (as she
recalled) were dim from no-movement prior to her entrance. She stood
bewildered.
…her curious brain was triggered; and thus, began to nom-nom
excitedly with possible explanations for the door being shut. Perhaps there wasn’t
even someone in the stall…perhaps the door was just stuck due to someone’s misplaced
bubble gum or grease or...or…something…
Trying to not be obvious with her curiosity, she gently turned
up the sink water pressure to cover any noise that she might make. And although
she tried to peer under the stall to test her theory of no one being inside,
she realized that she was at the wrong angle to be able to examine the
situation properly. Turning up the water a bit more, and glancing round’ (just
to double check her surroundings)…she then shifted her weight and slowly started
to lower herself into the squatting position. She was bound and determined to
get a better view of feet (if there were any) under the stall. However, this
sudden shift in body position was much more complex than originally anticipated.
For, her spine was contorted, her legs were squat-burning and her wet purple
hands still sat dangled and dripping into the sink. Lower. Lower. Lower. Legs
burning. Hands dripping. No sign of feet. No sign of feet. Lower. Lower…*blink*
*blink* FEEEEEEEEEEEET!
Surprised by the sight of toes wriggling under the stall, she
sprung back up to a normal standing position. Those were most definitely feet.
And they were alive feet…she undeniably saw toe-twiddling happening before her
eyes.
Her brain began to pound. This person did not meander into
the restroom while she was washing her hands. Although preoccupied with
scrubbing, she surely would have heard the large wooden bathroom door creaking
loudly as it opened, or slamming shut with a *KERBANG!*…as it was known to do.
The only other perceivable option at this point, was the
realization that this human being had been sitting in the stall since her
arrival. This option struck her as very odd, considering they, (the stall
occupant) hadn’t made a peep since she first started washing her hands…and at
one point, must have been sitting so still that the motion-sensor lights
decided to go on their lunch break.
Perhaps they were waiting to poop. She supposed this was a
viable option. They didn’t want to be disturbed, or heard, and so they sat waiting for
her to leave. Suddenly, Christi felt rather self-conscious due to the length of
time she had stood washing her hand. This poor stall-dweller was probably
highly constipated at this point. They most likely just wanted to be left
alone, feasibly in the dark, to poop in peace.
With that awkward last thought, Christi turned off
the water with her still-slightly stained hand, grabbed a few paper towels and
began to walk out. And as she was just about to exit, a small voice, almost whisper-like,
caught her mid-door push: “..Have a nice
day.”
…It was the stall tenant. She spoke.
Blinking rather rapidly and mind racing uncomfortably,
Christi responded quietly: “Uh…uh…you too...”
But...what she really wanted to say
was:
“You too, patient
stall-dwelling constipated pooper! YOU
TOO!.” (insert cheesy grin and animated thumbs up here)
With that brain-ramble, Christi pushed the door wide open to
the office hallway and giggled slightly to herself. It was going to be a good day. Thank you, dear awkward stall citizen. Thank you.
...And, may you have nice Thursdays' as well my friends!
Giggle often,
