Okay, you want to hear about the most embarassing event of my whole life? Well, here goes.

Yesterday I went to a class at State Tech, a college here in Memphis. Also in this class was a friend of mine.

So yesterday afternoon I needed to use the bathroom. I asked my friend (who had already been to the bathroom) where the bathrooms were. She said they were in the student center and on the right, by the water fountain.

So I went to the student center, saw the water fountain and went in the bathroom. I selected a nice clean stall, went in and sat down.

So I'm sitting there, and I look to my left - plenty of toilet paper. Excellent. I look to my right. A small metal box was bolted to the wall. Stamped into the little door on top of the box were the words

"Napkin disposal?" I muttered to myself, "why would you have a napkin in...the...bathroom?"

Realization was dawning, but I struggled against it as long as I could. Impossible, I thought wildly, simple impossible. Not even I would do such a thing...

I listened carefully. The bathroom door opened and closed, and the people in the stalls gurgled and flushed around me. No talking, though. No help there.

So I finished up my business and slowly stood on tip-toe, peeking over the top of my stall.

And there stood a nice woman washing her hands, totally oblivious to me. Horror. Oh, the horror.

I crouched quietly in my stall until the bathroom was empty again. At least my feet didn't give me away - I was wearing old All-Stars and some baggy jeans. I'm a bit big-footed for a girl, but I don't think anyone suspected.

Once the bathroom was clear I sprinted for the door. I opened it a crack (enough to see the sign that said "Women" on it, anyway) to make sure the coast was clear. Then I took off, out of the student center and halfway across the campus in seconds.

I don't think anyone saw me leave, and I know no one actually saw me in the bathroom, but anyone could have seen me go in. I just strolled in nonchalantly, like it was my right to use the women's room if I felt like it. Maybe they thought I was gender-confused, or a particularly broad-shouldered, short-haired girl.

I told Sonya about this. After laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks, she said, "well, I went in the men's room at Murphy's one time." Murphy's is a scuzzy dive in Midtown, one of the quintessential Memphis bars, and a place known for its questionable lavatories. "Yeah," I told her, "but when a girl goes in the men's room people just think it's becuase she got tired of waiting to get in the ladies'. No guy would mind that. But when a guy goes in the women's room he's..."

"A pervert," Sonya finished for me.

Exactly.

Laugh it up, fuzzballs. My foolishness is your entertainment.

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