While I was at my psychiatrist's office I stopped by the women's room on my way out. As I was sitting in the stall, someone walked into the stall next to me. With shock I notice the shoes… men’s shoes.
First I try to tell myself they could be women’s shoes but no, they are definitely men’s shoes. I am horrified; I can’t believe that I've gone into the men’s room again twice in two months. I decide that I will hide in the stall, wait for him to leave and sneak out. Maybe no one will see me leaving the men’s room. So I sit there chewing myself out for being so spacey. Thinking what’s wrong with me? I am too young for Alzheimer’s.
I hear the water running. I am listening for the sound of the door. Then I hear the door open and click click. Isn't that the sound of a woman’s shoes? I ask myself. A woman’s voice says" this is the women’s room." Then I notice the stall door is painted rose beige.
1 comment:
Some days are like that...
Aren't you glad you have an excuse and you aren't suffering from old-timers?
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