Lights Out!

There I was, in pitch black darkness. Gripped by uncertainty and paralyzed by indecision.

"What do I do now?" I asked myself repeatedly. I sat there dumbfounded, unable to comprehend completely what had just happened. In my heart of hearts, I knew I had to take action.

(Before you read on...and I know you will...please know that you will likely classify this under the heading "TMI." But, with that disclaimer, I leave the choice to proceed up to you).

Before I tell you (in the words of Paul Harvey) - the REST of the story, let me hit the rewind button.

I avoid public restrooms at just about all costs. Not for going #1. But, for the other, more time-consuming visits to the restroom. It's not too unusual. Many people I have talked to don't use public restrooms to do their business. No big whoop.

But, on that very rare occasion, there's no avoiding it. And this was one of those times.

So, I went to the most remote, far-removed from high-traffic areas location I could find in the time nature allowed. I felt relatively safe...for a few moments.

When you already dislike using public restrooms, you hate it even more when someone walks in. I am a pretty private person, so I feel completely exposed and emasculated when someone invades that space (and, I can guarantee you that they aren't too keen on it, either).

So, I hear someone walk into the restroom. I am deathly silent. No shuffling of feet. No coughing or clearing of my throat. Silence. That's how I roll.

Apparently, I was too quiet. The dude washes his hands, opens the door to walk out of the restroom, then SHUTS OFF THE LIGHTS!

WHAAAAT? Why did he do that? I mean, the light was on when he came in, so he should have just left it alone. So there I am. In the dark. Contemplating my next move.

Best I can tell, I have two choices. I can deal with the darkness, which seems like a relatively reasonable option. But, then a thought occurs to me: What if someone else walks in and realizes there's a dude in the stall of the bathroom with the lights out!

So I formulate a far riskier second option: I can make a mad dash for the light switch, and try to get back before anyone walks in.

I go with Option #2 (no pun intended). It's a bold move, but I know it's the best one. I reason that it's the option that reduces the amount of potential embarrassment to yours truly. (In hindsight, I know that this assessment was not completely rational. In fact, the risk for Option #2 creating irreparable humiliation was far greater).

I know you're dying to know how it all came out (another poor choice of words, but I am on a roll here).

Long story short, I got out of there without further incident.

And, I escaped embarrassment.

Well, until now.