A Mother In The Men’s Room

How We Roll - 52 Stories - Pt 1

There was a mother in the Men’s Room at Target. I know this because I was there. I know this because I was responding to nature’s call and was fully engrossed in the task at hand. I know this because she opened the door and asked if anyone was in there.

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t because I was embarrassed, ashamed or too shy. I was busy and not interested in responding to a stranger. I am a dad so I know the drill regarding public restrooms. I have been out with my kids and had to figure out whether my daughter would use the Men’s Room or be allowed to go in the Ladie’s Room.

It can be nerve wracking. We never want to put in our children in harms way so we try to make sure to do whatever we can to minimize the potential danger. Public restrooms can seem like pretty scary places.

Even so, I am not obligated to respond to your query. Nor am I interested in you walking in to try and manage the situation. In fact your presence there irritated me. Had I wanted an audience for this performance I would have found a comfortable tree to squat against in the park or alternatively fertilized the sidewalk with “Essence of Jack.”

Truth is that I am rather proud of “Essence of Jack” and have had preliminary discussions for turning it into an air freshener and or manly cologne. Apparently you disagreed as not only did you wander in, you coughed/gagged and then yelled something along the lines of “hurry up, there is a man in there who didn’t respond when I called.”

I was a bit confused by this and had to fight the urge to call out to you something sarcastic about your “fecal mental power” but I didn’t think that you were smart enough to understand the play on words. Not to mention that I was transfixed with your shouting at your son to “hold his penis.” He is a boy, do you really have to ask.

You should also know that I had to work hard not to ask you to get some toilet paper for me. It wasn’t because I was running out, but because I was irritated with your being there. Had I been single I might have moved faster and attempted to make some sort of love connection. It would have made a great story.

We could have had so much fun explaining to our friends that on our first date I proved that I am not full of crap. Alas it was not meant to be. Still, all is not lost as I now can tell a story about bad timing, lost love and what could have been.

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