Synchronized!

I met a woman in the toilet.

I know what you’re thinking.

But you’re wrong.

What happened was…

…ok I know what you’re now thinking….

and you’re still wrong. (Thank you, Laura, other woman I just met in the pub.)

Damn.

Seriously, I’m out at the pub with some friends and we’re all having a laugh over my ineptitude at keeping quiet about menstruation.

I just can’t help myself. It’s like a disorder.

What happened was, I met a girl who asked to share my table, but the seat was taken. Then I happened to go to the toilet at the same time as she did, three times. It went: awkward looks in mirror as we were both surprised to see each other again, embarrassed apology on our second meeting for denying her a table, and finally, friendship. She saw me again and said, ‘Wow! We’ve synchronized!’

Readers of Adventures in Menstruating #3 may remember my concerns about what to say about menstrual synchronization. It’s a whole other ballpark when it’s toilet synchronization. We’re now friends, I think. She works for an organization that gives kids free bikes. One day soon, I’ll explain to her about the zine, and why I nearly exploded with laughter in her face at ‘Wow! We’ve synchronized!’

Last weekend I was in the public toilet at the newly refurbished theatre in town, and got into a very long and loud conversation with some cool old ladies about the width of the cubicles finally meeting their approval.

“I wrote in,” said one. “The old toilets were too narrow for my mature backside! I’m glad they finally listened,” she beamed.

Mature backside one, Historically cramped public inconveniences – zero.

I’m going to have to find a swift and sensible way to explain why I tend to loiter in public toilets and strike up conversations though.

Chella

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6 responses to “Synchronized!

  1. Riot Kitty

    Thank you for the laughs! I love the bit about the women who wrote in about her “mature backside.”

  2. Riot Kitty

    Thank you for the laughs! I love the bit about the women who wrote in about her “mature backside.”

  3. Fireblossom

    On a recent visit to London, I was at a restaurant having dinner with a gf, when I needed the bathr–, um, I mean, the loo. Well, I couldn’t find it. All I saw was a sign that said “WC” and an arrow. How was I supposed to know what “WC” meant? I assumed it was for “Winston Churchill” and assumed they had him mounted in a glass case somewhere.

    Eventually, I reached back into that dusty corner of my mind devoted to 19th century English Lit, and decided that WC must mean “water closet.” What a quaint old phrase.

    I met no one there. 😉

  4. Fireblossom

    On a recent visit to London, I was at a restaurant having dinner with a gf, when I needed the bathr–, um, I mean, the loo. Well, I couldn’t find it. All I saw was a sign that said “WC” and an arrow. How was I supposed to know what “WC” meant? I assumed it was for “Winston Churchill” and assumed they had him mounted in a glass case somewhere.

    Eventually, I reached back into that dusty corner of my mind devoted to 19th century English Lit, and decided that WC must mean “water closet.” What a quaint old phrase.

    I met no one there. 😉

  5. I guess when gay men hang around toilets, it’s cottaging. When lesbians do it, it’s zine research?

  6. I guess when gay men hang around toilets, it’s cottaging. When lesbians do it, it’s zine research?

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