Last week when I was reading this post, I was about to comment on a similar situation that I had many years ago, but decided that it was good post material. Of course I then forgot that I was going to write it. But when I went back to Mike's blog again today, it refreshed my memory, so here goes.
One day many years ago, before Lisa and I had any children, we went to Target to do some shopping. I really had to go to the bathroom, and kind of hurried into the store so I could relieve myself. Now I had only used the Kennewick Target's bathroom only one time before, and in my mind it was the first door you can to.
Without looking up at the sign (Like I said, I knew which one was the men's room!) I entered into the bathroom. Upon entering the bathroom, I found it a little odd that there were no urinals in the men's room at this Target. In fact, I had never seen a bathroom where there were so many loos lined up in a row. But since I really had to go, I pick a stall somewhere in the middle, and went about doing my business.
I had been in there less than 30 seconds, when all of a sudden I heard Lisa walk in and call out for me. I couldn't believe it!! How dare she come into the men's room?? The nerve of her! I yelled at her to get out, and that if someone saw her in the men's room she was going to get into trouble.
Up to this point I was still convinced that I was in the men's room. The thought had not crossed my mind that this could possibly be a women's bathroom. But right as I went to flush, I heard Lisa speak these chilling words: "YOU ARE IN THE WOMEN'S ROOM, NOT THE MEN'S ROOM!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING????"
I jumped out at the stall ready to tell Lisa off, and that she was wrong. But by now I had serious doubts in my mind that I was actually in the right place. It wasn't until I looked over on the wall and saw the tampon dispenser that I had known for sure I had made a horrible mistake.
Luckily, I was able to make it out before any other ladies came in. And I seem to remember seeing all the stall doors (except mine) open, so no one other than Lisa had to ever know that I was in there. And when I finally made it back into the hallway, I looked at the door. Sure enough, there was Mrs. Bathroom on the door adorned in her black dress with stick arms and legs sticking out.
No El Donaldo, this is NOT the Men's room!
It was many months, perhaps years, before I was able to enter into Target again without Lisa asking me if I had to go to the bathroom. Of course when she reads this, the taunting just might start back up again.
