What I mean: It is sooo NOT OK to talk to me while I'm in the stall next to you in the ladies' room. Don't get me wrong...you need some T.P., and I'm your girl. Small talk to a complete stranger through the stall wall? Not cool.
Can I please pee in peace? I can't pee in peace at home, can I at least pee in peace when I go out? Is that too much to ask? Really? I finally have the opportunity to use the bathroom without having to have a discussion with Girl 15 or Girl 12 on the other side of the door, and now this chick wants to talk about the crazy New England weather, in a public restroom, while I'm trying to pee, and she's.....well....from the smell and sounds of things, pinching a loaf. Did I mention that we are in a public restroom? What possesses someone to strike up an unprovoked conversation about the effing weather to a complete stranger while laying friggen pipe? So I decide to take a peek underneath the stall to see if I can determine the level of nut job I'm dealing with here. I'm totally expecting socks and sandals, or even jelly shoes (from 1980) but nothing prepares me for what I actually find. Fuzzy slippers. This bitch is 12 kinds of crazy! It's been raining since Saturday. I'm about ready to build an ark, and she's traipsing around in what used to be fuzzy, but are now soggy, dirty slippers!
Finally, I'm washing my hands, and she says, with a voice that sounds like she's pushing a Mack Truck out of her butt, "You have a good day sweetie...and stay dry!"
There. Are. No. Words.
And this, my friends, is the crap (no pun intended) that bugs me today!