So that's what happens in there...

Last weekend I went to a gala opening party for a queer film and video festival. The forward thinking festival programmers covered over the labels on the bathroom doors with signs reading, "Gender is a spectrum. Pick the shortest line." So, like a contestant on Let's Make a Deal, I chose door number two. But was unwittingly forced into door number one by a wily competitor.

As soon as I felt the urge to pee I extricated myself from the throngs and headed to the two unmarked doors. I bobbed and weaved while keeping the doors in plain view. Then, within three feet of door number one, I found myself in a foot race with a meandering 80-year old man with a walker. I, a spry 34-year old thought I could beat him the remaining three feet, but I was mistaken. My 80-year old competitor ambled ahead of me, pivoted to the right, placed his walker between the door, and me and ultimately boxed me out. So. I chose the other door – door number one.

I walked into the bathroom, turned to the right, and spied a figure out of the corner of my eye. I spied a man. A man standing with his back to me; a man holding his hands in front of his pants; a man standing in front a urinal; a man relieving himself.

I froze – for what seemed like fifteen seconds.

When I regained my composure, I continued past the bank of urinals, turned sharply into the one toilet stall in the expansive bathroom, closed the door, and waited. I waited to hear the urinal flush. I waited to hear the water in the sink run. I waited to hear the bathroom door open. And I waited to hear the bathroom door close. Then I flushed, washed my hands, and left – stealthily.

After leaving the bathroom I bobbed and weaved my way back to TW. From a distance I could see her talking and laughing heartily to a person I did not know. So I ventured closer. When I reached two of them, TW introduced me to her acquaintance, a man who looked oddly familiar. He and I exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, and then he remarked, “Actually, didn’t I just see you in the bathroom?” Surprised by his query I stammered, “Me. No. It couldn’t have been. I don’t go to the bathroom. Ever.” He nodded. I can’t be completely sure but I think he believed me.