A Pas Most Faux

Every now and then something happens in life that, if you were thinking rationally, you would realize has happened to a lot of people. But in the heat of the moment, you aren’t thinking rationally, and at that moment, you feel like the biggest idiot in the world.

Walking into the wrong bathroom is one of those times.

Now, what makes this story worse is that I wasn’t even looking for a bathroom! No, I was ever so innocently trying to get to class. A class that, due to some evil conspiracy on the part of the building designers, was right next to the men’s bathroom. I mean, what’s up with that?

Granted, I could have been more careful. I do tend to walk around with my head in the clouds a lot, not really paying much attention to where I’m going. And I wasn’t entirely used to attending class in this particular building. But I could have sworn that I had counted the number of doors properly, and without checking to see if there was an actual, ya know, room number above the door, I just blithely pushed my way inside.

One step was all it took to realize that I had made some sort of mistake. I looked around, and froze. Why, this was not a classroom! I can be quite brilliant, you know. It took only a split second to figure that one out. Sharp as a tack, I am.

Now, this would have been a good time to bolt out of there, but no. I stood transfixed. It’s not that I had never been in a men’s bathroom, before. My brother had taken me into one in a restaurant when I was a kid, after making sure it was empty, to show off some fancy schmancy decorating that had been done in there. I’d been behind enemy lines before, damnit! I was no raw recruit! No, I was glued to the floor because my mind just couldn’t accept the fact that I had not walked into a classroom.

That’s when it happened, that point of no return. I’d been spotted! There was some guy, and he looked at me! Gasp! I dropped my eyes to the floor. That’s what you’re supposed to do, you know. If you don’t make eye contact, they can’t see you. It’s scientific fact. I’m sure of it.

That small movement galvanized me into action. Stammering some unintelligible apology, I backed out of the bathroom, and hurried to class, where I found a seat and sat in utter mortification.

Needless to say, the rest of that semester was spent compulsively checking and rechecking room numbers before walking through any doors. I never made that mistake again.

*knocks on wood*