I am a pretty anal-retentive person…I might even have a touch of OCD. I never really had it looked into because well, I have a host of other crazy behaviors that probably need more focus than being annoyingly organized and regimented. In this instance, my routine is about the end of the work day. Each night before leaving I do the “day’s end” lap . I walk to the printer to check that I have gotten all of my print-outs (especially the personal ones like coloring pages for Vanessa, softball schedules for Ella or online shopping receipts for me). I stop at the bathroom and then go through the kitchen to fill a water bottle for the ride home. Finally, I head back to my desk to pick-up my parking pass, car keys and purse. On this particular day, I was ready to by-pass the printer to go straight to the bathroom since I had so much water throughout the day. But because I am this person of habit, I started the norm with an overly full bladder. Tapping my foot and doing a little dance to keep from peeing my pants, I waited for what seemed like forever for the printer to finish printing all of my documents. I couldn’t even fathom going over the water cooler with having to go to the bathroom on my mind. After practically pulling the last page of my print-out from the copier, I broke routine and ran on the tips of my pink high-heeled shoes to the bathroom. On a mission, I pushed open the door like a sailor on his first time home to his bride. I chose the first stall because it was closest and barley even locked the door behind me before I had one hand yanking down my pants to take position. Now – I know that the cleaning people come each night and I know the asses of my fellow co-workers but I still find the need to hover over the bowl – no skin to porcelain contact. With the pressure of the bladder bursting open, my stream was as solid and fierce as water from a fire hose. I was a bit embarrassed of how loud it was when I realized someone was in the stall next to me. As I moved just slightly to collect some toilet-paper, albeit while I was still engaged in going, my body shifted and my big ol’ rear moved away from the bowl. I suddenly heard the sound of my pee hitting the water change to my pee hitting the floor. I moved back into a target-right position and when finished, I bent down to clean up the little puddle on the floor. It was then that I actually saw the feet in the next stall. I know those manicured toes peeking out from the sensible beige shoes. It was my boss. And there were little droplets of my pee on the side of her shoe! Yikes!! I stood there with my face frozen. In fact, I think I stopped breathing. When I heard her flush, I started silently mouthing the words “fuck” over and over and praying that she’d leave the bathroom pronto so I didn’t have to meet her at the sink. Once I heard the bathroom door open and assumed she walked out, I used my foot to press down the handle to flush and instantly regretted having on pretty unique shoes - if she saw them it would be telltale that I was the offender. Just to be safe, I never wore those same shoes again. And neither did she. Her, for better reason.
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