So I walked into the women's room and it was...fragrant. No big. That's what it's for. There was a woman standing at the sink, no one else there, and I assumed it was her. Again, no big. I did what anyone with bathroom etiquette would do and avoided eye contact and went quickly into a stall to do my business.
But then she left.
I immediately panicked, realizing that of course anyone who came in after me would think I had bombed the place and I wanted no part of that. It was a race against time to finish my business and get the hell out of there.
I made it.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what it's like to have bathroom anxiety.
