It could’ve gone better

I went out tonight for a happy hour. Probably about an hour and a half into the happy hour I had to go to the bathroom. So I went to the bathroom. Usually, when it’s open, I use the bathroom stall that’s larger than the other ones even though it’s supposed to be reserved for people who either have babies or are in wheelchairs. I have neither a baby or a wheelchair, and both cases call for a round of applause. I don’t know why I like using the bigger stall. Maybe it’s because my mother is claustraphobic and I take on her tendencies solely when going to the bathroom. Or perhaps it’s because of some sort of animal instinct to at least have the option to mark more territory if I one day decide that I like peeing ON things rather than IN them. In all honesty, I’m pretty sure it’s just because I like to flail my arms about wildly as I eliminate wastes from my body. I know you’d probably like to judge me for that, but it’s really hard to get some good exercise in on a working girl’s schedule. No, not that kind of working girl. At any rate, I peed in the larger toilet stall. I’ve never had any issue with it. I actually have quite a few fond memories of doing as such. Tonight changed all that, and I will never pee in the larger stall again, even if it is the only stall that is open in any bathroom in any building in any tri-state area. For, as I exited the 3′ X 5′ temptress of doom I noticed that there were two other empty stalls and only one other person in the bathroom. And yes, that other person was in a wheelchair, patiently waiting for me to finish my cardio-pee session. As I eeked by her I tried to make it seem like the situation wasn’t completely awkward. Apparently when I try doing that, I wind up making darty eye-contact while shaking my head and smiling in a way that just makes me look constipated. Thank God I was not constipated. Unfortunately I was really sweaty. That didn’t help. I really don’t get it. I have a lot of love for most people, and I try to make it a point to be a nice person. Somehow though, whenever I leave my house I seem to make it a point to get in a situation where I seem completely disrespectful. If there’s a sign on my back that says “Asshole for hire” someone please swipe it off. Seriously. I am NOT getting compensated.