Meeting in the Ladies Room

Do you remember that song? I got a meeting in the ladies room, I'll be back real soon.... It was by Klymaxx, the only all-girl funk band.

Apparently, there is quite a bit of a turf war going on in Klymaxx-land. There are two camps--the "original members" camp which is exactly what it sounds like, the original band members, and the "new Klymaxx" camp, which is led by one member of the original group and several much younger women. Quite intersesting. My favorite Klymaxx song was "The Men All Pause." Dang. Reminds me of my cocktail waitress days at the Cadillac Club. *sigh* So young, so young.

Anyway. About my new meeting in the ladies room, which occured at Kroger this evening.

If you've ever had to take a car trip of more than 2 blocks with me, you know that Ameliabee must visit the restroom on a fairly frequent basis. By fairly frequent I mean every 20 minutes or so. This has helped me develop what may be my greatest superpower--an encyclopedic knowledge of every decent public restroom in the state of Ohio and most of Central and Southern Wisconsin. I know exactly how many miles it between rest areas on I-71 North between Columbus and Cleveland. (for the record--starting with the rest area about 8 miles out of Columbus, 48 miles, 20 miles, and 26 miles) I can tell you every decent place to stop between the Wisconsin State Line and Columbus, OH. I also know which grocery, convenience, book and and shoe stores have passable public restrooms, and which don't have public restrooms, but will let you go in the employee restroom if you look really desparate. A very valuable super power indeed.

So, my superpower told me that the Great Big Giant Kroger (home of the horrible marketing photos) has very nice restrooms, and my wee tiny bladder told me it was time to pay a visit. I was happily taking care of business, when I heard the door open and another shopper enter. No problem--there are three other stalls, none of which are occupied.

As I sat, finishing up the rounds as it were, the new visitor approached the only closed door, mine, and pushed on it. Ooops! I thought. Now she'll go into another stall. But Houston, we had a problem. Apparently, I was in the Sacred Stall. The Only One. The Best One. Or something. She did not go into another stall, but pushed again at my door. Then, seeing as things were not giving way, she put her hand over the top and shook the door.

I decided she just didn't know I was inside, and so proceeded to loudly spin the toilet paper roll. Listening to the metallic whir echoing off the tiles, I was sure she'd realize her error and move along.

Nope.

Undeterred, she grabbed and shook the door again. I was starting to get a little nervous...and so I squeaked out in a jolly tone, "Sorry! I'll just be another second!" This seemed to get the point across for about 3 seconds then...Shake, Shake, Shake. Bang, Bang, Bang, BANG! I was completely done and ready to come out at this point, but frankly I was scared. I said "HEY! I'm IN here!" as loudly as I could muster, and gave the door a little kick to drive the point home.

Seconds ticked by, as the Bathroom Marauder processed this new bit of intelligence. "Hello?" she yelled. "Hello?" She gave the door a half-hearted shake, turned around and left the bathroom.

She didn't try to use one of the other stalls, she just left. As the door swung open, the blessed clatter of carts and the automated voice of the Self-Checkouts floated in. I was still a little scared that She Who Waits Outside the Stalls was lurking around the corner, waiting to flush me, but Mr. Ameliabee was waiting (as he often is, poor guy) so I plucked up my courage and opened the door. I was all alone in the restroom again.