occupied.

have you ever been walked in on while going to the bathroom? if you haven't - congrats.  if you have, then you may just understand how traumatizing it can be.  it happened to one of my co-workers today, which brought back memories of my own humiliating experience.

we have 3 bathrooms at work, 2 of which are shared with patients (i work in a medical facility), and the other is shared with another office within the building.  all three bathrooms are single occupancy: ONE room, ONE toilet.  they all have locks, which seem to function about 60% of the time.  we've only been in this building for a little over a year, and the locks have been replaced at least half a dozen times due to malfunction.  so even the pissers who are sure to lock the door behind them are still at risk of intruders!

i suffer from IBS (and will spare you the gruesome details), so needless to say - there are many times when i need a bathroom in a moment's notice.  it's not something i enjoy.  in fact, for the most part i try to avoid public bathrooms as much as possible.  but when IBS rears it's ugly little head, i sometimes have no choice but to clench the cheeks and do the number two shuffle to the nearest place of evacuation.

so there i was.  at work.  in the bathroom.  door locked (or so i hoped).  trying to muffle the sounds of my wincing and groaning by running the faucet.  hunched over.  pants around ankles.  doing the butt wiggle to help things along.  and then...it happened.  the door was flung open by one of the medical assistants, exposing me to 2 of our physicians and a handful of patients with mouths agape. frozen.  wishing i would feel the impact of a deer in headlights.  i shouted, red-faced, "just a minute," spastically gesturing to close the door - which was just out of reach as long as my bum remained planted on the seat.  10 seconds have never felt like such an eternity!

(let's not even think about the smell that undoubtedly hit the innocent bystanders like a brick to the face!)

now...to the point...

this could have and SHOULD have been avoided.  why, why, WHY didn't she knock? can someone please answer that for me?  this is not your house.  for crying out loud, knock first.  and knocking whilst simultaneously opening the door does not cut it.  for those who are common sense challenged, there IS public bathroom protocol.  let me break it down for you:

1. KNOCK.

2. pause...

3. LISTEN

4. enter.

if you should hear anything but silence between steps 1 and 4, stay the eff out!  i mean, this should be common courtesy.  yes, courtesy.  ever heard of it? learn it.  live it.  love it.  just goddamn do it.

furthermore, if airlines have figured it out, why can't we get it together down here on solid ground? as you enter the commode on a plane and lock the door behind you, outsiders are presented with an informative little message that says, "occupied."  BRILLIANT.  and so simple.  so why hasn't this caught on anywhere else? theaters, restaurants, offices.  the answer is so easy.  

and so in closing - if you are a bathroom offender (i.e. you don't lock and/or knock), may you pick the stall with no toilet paper!

love.

jena.

documentaries. intervention.  true life.  hell, even dr. phil (i am so shameless!).  i am fascinated with victims.  i have found nothing quite as cathartic as voyeurism of the downtrodden.  while some people like to climb on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn, i'd much rather curl up with a box of tissues and spend the next 30 minutes to 2 hours purging (emotionally...in this instance).  it's not so much that i derive pleasure from other's pain; but that it somehow validates my own afflictions.  it's a connection i so deeply desire from others, but so rarely find.  and i am sure that's largely a fault of my own.  i've known my closest friends for 20 years.  two decades.  and yet we rarely exchange any raw emotion. somehow intimacy is easier for me amongst strangers.  less judgement? probably not.  but less to lose, maybe.  although i think in reality-the perceived loss is more a figment of my paranoid imagination.  

i had planned to expound on this, but seeing as how it took me forever to get that much out - i will stop. i used to journal all the damn time, and like many things, it was lost along the wayside.  i have such an insatiable craving for an outlet and yet the blockage remains.  oh how i miss the days when i could just write, and write, and write.  i'll get back there.  but not today.

love. jena.