And? It’s not the ladies’ bathroom at work.
I was there recently, stationed in one of the stalls and trying to determine just how reflective my patent leather pumps were, when into the room walked this woman who loudly said, “Hello.”
Taken aback, I answered, “…Yes?” (Maybe she was looking for a friend or left something behind?) Immediately she launched into a heated tirade in Spanglish, which was obviously (and to my chagrin) taking place on the phone.
Repeatedly, she hammered at the poor soul on the other end about something that had to be done…because she couldn’t be there to do it.
I guess there was a limit to just how much she could multitask.
This raucous harangue echoed in our little three-stall bathroom while she yanked out and positioned the seat liner, used the toilet, wiped (presumably), flushed, then marched to the sink to brush her teeth. That’s a new one. I’ve never even thought of talking on the phone while brushing my teeth.
Take a moment to imagine what it must look like under a microscope. Eww.
After several flushes from my stall (a couple of them an effort to drown out the racket) and a hurried encounter with the soap, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I endure enough stress OUTside the bathroom.
People, please. Yank the phone from your ear long enough to hear me: turn the bleeping cell phone OFF when you use the bathroom! It’s an insult to the person you’re calling, no one on your side of the phone can tune it out, everyone in your vicinity plainly hates you for it, and
It. Can. WAIT!