So my work has a teeny tiny little workout room for staff to use on the Lower Level, out of public eye. On my road to healing and breathing and all things good, I've been taking advantage of the fact that on just about any morning I can more than likely have the place to myself. No pressure to get off the treadmill, no line for the elliptical (which is fine because I hate that thing anyways), no one changing the TV from CNN to Fox News and no wait for the one and only shower. For the most part I feel like I have the run of the place in the wee hours of the morning - or I did until today.
This morning I had just gotten out of the shower and into the stall to change into the day's ensemble when the bathroom door opened and someone entered the stall next to me. Not used to the company I paused for a hot second when I heard the familiar 'clink' of a ceramic mug settling on metal. Huh. I resumed trying to navigate my shirt when I heard the rustling of paper and paused again. Newspaper. Inneresting. And then, nothing. They just sat there. I continued to navigate my shirt, then another, and finally the rest of me, all the while my neighbor just sat in stone-cold silence. An occasional rustle and clink. How long can they possibly keep this up? I wondered, then smirked when I realized that I still had my make-up to apply. And then things got weird.
When I exited the stall and reached down to grab my make-up bag, I of course took a quick gander at the feet that belonged to my neighbor (you know, so I could recognize them later when attached to a body) and was kinda weirded out to find not shoes, but socks. Socks ya'll. As in stocking feet in the bathroom. And not just any bathroom but a work bathroom. What the fug? That's weird, right? And I had to laugh cause they dangled off the ground just a little and the toes wiggled uncomfortably. So I finished getting ready. For another 10 minutes. I even turned the blow dryer on (even though I didn't really need it) for a few minutes, just to give the poor soul some relief. I turned off the blow dryer, clink, rustle, wiggle. That's it. We were at a stand off.
And then I surrendered to the faceless toes. I couldn't take it any more and somehow I was the one who felt awkward. I felt like I was the one who was doing the intruding and I had to leave. I quickly packed up my belongings and scurried outside before I was recognized. So, lesson of the day boys and girls? When faced with potentially awkward bathroom stall situations, take the shoes off.
Cau for now.