Alone in a Washroom With a Stranger
I went to use the washroom before leaving the restaurant. When I entered, a man was using the urinal, so I waited for my turn.
As I stood waiting for him to finish, he turned to look back at me. I nodded my head with a hello gesture. I crossed my arms and rested my back against the wall. He didn’t take long using the urinal; however, he kept looking back over his shoulder in my direction.
It was now too many glances he had given me, and it began to feel a bit awkward.
He proceeded to make his way to the sink but without taking his eyes off me. The awkwardness had now turned into an annoyance. I wanted to ask him what his problem was. Why did he keep looking at me so much? It’s awkward enough when someone looks at you in this manner, more so inside a washroom.
All the while, he washed his hands, he kept his eyes on the mirror, seeing me in the reflection. I was bothered and concerned by this point, but he soon finished washing up, reached for a paper towel, and proceeded to make his way to the door.
Though he was exiting the room, the starring had gotten too intense, if he were going to stare at me, I would stare right back. We kept locked eye contact the entire time he made his way out.
“What a weird guy,” I thought to myself. Now that he was gone and I felt at ease, I could now use the facilities. However, I couldn’t get this recent memory out of my mind.
As I washed my hands over the sink, I looked around this room. I looked over to where I stood to wait for the man to finish, which was only a few feet away. I thought to myself, “this washroom is tiny.”
At this moment, I had a realization.
“Holy crap!”
I’d felt unease by the looks of the man in the room with me, all the while thinking he was a weirdo. He had done nothing wrong, except for forgetting to lock the door behind him when he went in.
It wasn’t this man who was the weird one; it was me. I had stood inside a small washroom with a stranger — a washroom designed for a single occupant.
