Last night was my friend Becca's going-away dinner at Il Fornaio in Pasadena. We're all bummed about her leaving but I know it's a wonderful opportunity for her. As much as we'll miss her we're happy for her exciting new job.
Dinner itself was fine. The bread pudding was quite good--more memorable than the risotto I ordered. A funny thing did happen on the way to the bathroom, though. Near the end of the evening I headed to use the boy's room. I went in and noticed that there were no urinals. I've never been to a men's room that had no urinals. I did my business in one of the stalls and wondered about there being no urinal. Was I in the women's room? It looked a little too dirty for being a women's room and I always imagined the ladies' restroom as being immaculate. Just as I was washing my hands the door opened. Two women walked in. I was in the women's room.
Strangely, the women took no notice of me until I blurted out that I was in the wrong restroom. They just laughed and said, "It's no big deal." And I agree. It shouldn't be a big deal. There are stalls, so it's not like I would see anything inappropriate. Besides, women have used the men's room a few times while I was in there doing my business when the women's room is just too busy. I'm no pervert!
Also, I now know that women make such a mess in the restroom. Sheesh.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment