I know that I said this post was going to be the third part of the Improvised story, but I’m not done the third part…and, well, I kind of have something I wanted to post…so instead of the story, here’s a funny little tale.
I was at Indigo just a moment ago. To people who don’t live in Canada, Indigo is part of a large chain of bookstores. Now, there I was, in Indigo, looking for books, when suddenly I realize that I really need to go to the washroom. Badly. By the way, “washroom” is Canadian for restroom. So, anyways I really need to go and I’m close to the walls of the bookstore. So, like a gelatinous cube (DnD nerds will get it) I stick by the perimeter of the building trying to look for the washroom. Then I decide to ask someone where it is.
I approach an employee to respectfully ask for directions:
“I’m dying, where’s the washroom, pretty please?” is what I said.
She points to where a Huge sign that says washroom is and I thank her.
I am not going to go into detail of what happened once I was in the washroom, but after I was done I felt…really happy.
In a dreamlike relief and happiness I decide to hold the door open for the next person who needs the washroom. So I open the door and there’s someone outside. I hold the door open invitingly. I’m so happy that I don’t notice that the person I’m inviting into the man’s washroom is a little girl…
…Wow, that was awkward. Luckily nobody but the girl saw that and I quickly acted like nothing happened. That could have gone a lot worse, I decided. It would have been disastrous if her mother or father had seen that.
So, anyway, that’s my post. Tune in next time for when I post the next part of my not so short story!