In response to Heels in the Men's Room, it greatly saddens me to report that there have been, yes, more heels in the men's room.
I saw her again, only this time I was not using the facility. While waiting for the elevator, I caught a glimpse of our culprit as she strode into the lobby - all 5 feet, 90 pounds of her. Knock. Knock. Before lowering her shoulder into the door, she looked back at me with a face that reeked of "Yes-I-am-really-going-to-do-this" bravado. And in she went.
The verdict of this case is really quite simple. In fact, I'm quite embarrassed for ever over-thinking it. The truth stands that this person clearly knows what she's doing, and is simply too lazy to walk up or down one measly flight of stairs to use the restroom that has been designed and designated for her entire gender.
Ignoring social norms, public signage and etiquette in general, she enters, uses and exits the men's room on a daily basis, very aware and unconcerned that she might run into a man during this process.
© mundane affair
- mundane affair
- Chicago, IL, United States
- Hark, ye children. An ex-kid or former infant – a fully grown seed. White as milk and 2 percent overrated. Loves writing, loathes reading (only kidding) and doesn’t mind learning a thing or two. Prone to self-contradiction, self-defamation and self-mutilation, but not self-strangulation. Thinks a lot, or a little, depending on subject matter, and wishes he was a mixture of Lester Bangs, whoever played Amélie in "Amélie," Iceland and a werewolf. Did not know the 12 months or their order until grade 10, and still has no idea how many days are in each. Forgets names, birthdays, relatives and holidays, and was once a “C” geography student. Tired, in general, finding little or no motivation to wake up each day. Ate ice cream from cartons on a daily basis for three months straight (mostly in the evenings), and gained weight after it was all over. Is no longer fond of ice cream.
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