Which way is the men's room?

Absent-mindedness can be most disconcerting when one finds himself or herself in the early portions of being middle aged. Thoughts of a dementia onset immediately surface and all of a sudden a person finds one more facet of life over which to wring their hands.

Yesterday I experienced one of those incidents where my head had less clarity for what the situation warranted. And the result had me concerned with just where I had left said head.

Inside a Wal-Mart, I walked into the men’s room while thinking about the tasks which were ahead of me once I was finished in the john. The fact that the room had no urinals seemed odd to me but other than that, I thought little of it.

Just after I shut the door of a stall, I heard the voice of one woman and then a second.

In a split second I thought that the first female voice was perhaps that of a janitor but I was certainly nonplussed by the second voice. Within the span of another second, it hit me. Yes, I was in the ladies’ room.

“Oh Lord, I’m in the wrong place,” I cried out, half terrified with the other half chuckling as I vacated the “powder room.”

Luckily this was amusing to the women, one of whom loudly proclaimed: “I won’t tell,” as I exited.

After finishing my bodily chore in the adjacent room, I could still hear those women cackling like hens. I’m glad they got a laugh at my expense.

It was funny though.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *