Went into the gent’s at work. Standing at the urinal just about to get on with it when there’s a knock. “Hello?” Female voice. Must be a cleaner — one of several middle-aged women in dusty blue uniforms, generally seen spending an inordinate amount of time polishing the brass fittings in the building’s foyer. She’s checking if it’s safe to come in.
“Yeah”, I call back, trying to indicate that no, it’d be great if she waits a minute.
The door opens anyway. My hands are down near my zip, but nothing’s out, nothing’s open, so I turn around to see who it is. I don’t know what she thought she saw, but the colour drained away from her face. “Oh! Sorry! Sorry!” She backs out, and calls from behind the door. “Sorry sir! Sorry!”
Satisfied she’s not coming in, I get on with it, then go out, passing her in the corridor. I tell her there’s nobody else in there. She says sorry again and thank you. I chuckle and keep walking.
One reply on “She saw nothing”
This reminds me of travelling in Thailand at the train station. Many many rows of urinals and at least a dozen ladys with a mop cleaning up. I almost froze when whilst doing the business a mop brushes up against my leg, the cleaner just laughed when I looked at her and kept cleaning away.