The thing about truck stop bathrooms I like, is that the women's room is almost always empty. Because the ratio of women to men out here is low, the chances of me waiting in line for a bathroom are close to zero. Well, unless there's a tour bus in the parking lot, which is rare. In that case, I use my backup plan - the driver's lounge restrooms.
The best kept secret (well, until now), is that a lot of truck stops have restrooms in the driver's lounge area that the general public aren't aware of. The guys often know about them, but the women never do. I don't think I've ever been in one where I've even seen another woman in the vicinity. The thing I like about using these restrooms is that they're usually individual, one person rooms. Very private, no stalls. Kind of like the "family" restrooms you see these days. They're my first preference, especially if the truck stop is busy, but if I have to use the one in the main part of the building I don't mind since I often still find myself alone.
Except on a recent visit.
We were at a Flying J where we had stopped for a bite to eat. At many of these locations, the bathrooms are right outside the entrance to the restaurant, so instead of walking to the driver's lounge, I headed straight to the women's restroom. Empty as usual, I proceeded to a stall at the end of the row. I only had to pee, so I wasn't going to be long, but while in there I heard someone come in and go into one of the other stalls. No biggie, right?
When I came out of my stall, the other person was still in theirs. I washed my hands and began to primp; fixed my hair, put on some lipgloss, touched up my blush. I was taking my sweet time. The person in the stall seemed to be taking their sweet time also. I didn't hear any odd noises and began to wonder if they were the kind of person who couldn't take care of business when someone else was in the room.
I fluffed my hair, leaned in to the mirror to check the state of my makeup, made sure the lipgloss I had just applied was perfect (even though I was going to wipe it off once I sat down to eat), fluffed my hair again, and organized my purse by throwing away gum wrappers, receipts I didn't need, balled up tissues. The person in the other stall still hadn't come out. The place had solid doors all the way to the floor so I couldn't see any feet, but I started to wonder just what she was doing in there. There wasn't any noise. I didn't hear any tinkling. What the hell?
Suddenly the door opened, but I didn't immediately look up because I didn't want the person to be embarrassed for taking so long, but I sensed she was hesitating before coming out. That's what made finally look, the odd sensation of her just standing there. And just as I looked at her in the mirror, all I saw was the side of her face as she hurried to the exit. It all happened so fast that I didn't realize what I had just witnessed.
It wasn't a she at all. It was a HE. I had just seen a man scurry from the women's restroom! I believe I'd just witnessed a shit and run!
I'm not easily shocked, so it didn't really bother me, but I did wonder why a man decided to take a chance getting caught in the women's restroom. I've seen it happen the other way around since the lines are always so long for us that we often duck into the men's room before they even know what hit them. I've done it many times myself, sometimes with Ed standing guard.
I tried to remember what he was wearing so I could scope him out in the store or restaurant, but he'd run away so quickly, I had no idea where he went. I just wanted to see what he looked like. It wasn't like I was going to say anything to him, but I'm certain I would have given him the I-know-what-you-just-did look.
Just a little glare, nothing more. Then I would have walked away with a look of satisfaction on my face.
Because finally I would have figured out where the pee on the seat comes from.