Nice Shoes...Where'd You Get 'Em?

I walked into my floor's bathroom at work the other day. It's 10am and of the two stalls, one is occupied. I always feel a small wave of pity for the person who thought they'd perfectly time their toilet usage, squeezing between the 9:30am post-coffee rush and the 11:30am making-room-for-lunch herd. It's not hard to guess the scenario--the dead silence from their frozen frame (because if they're veeewy, veeewy quiet you'll never know they're squatting behind the stall door) paradoxically heightens their presence tenfold. The feet planted firmly on the floor as if they're bracing for a biggun don't help either.

I think they even stop breathing at this point, like I'm the toilet Gestapo about to make an arrest and one false move could mean death by humiliation. And depending on my mood, I either try to help them out by peeing fiercely fast, no dallying around or anything to extenuate their misery and potentially lead to their own asphyxiation, or -- if my evil side is at the wheel -- I pick my teeth in the mirror or hum while carefully folding a swath of toilet paper into a crane, enjoying my right to breath loudly next to them.

Then I'll mentally entertain conversation starters to volley over the stall wall.

"Do you know a good doctor by any chance?"

"So this 80 year-old man and a platypus walk into this bar, you see..."

"Wow, who would have thought Red Bull and Indian curry didn't mix well!"

"I'm stuck on 23 across...What's a five letter word for 'Montezuma's Revenge'?"

"Hover or sit--which is it?"

Which ever way you slice it, I feel wrong not saying something. Maybe it's the awkwardness of sharing such intimate space with someone whose name you don't know, let alone whose face you can't see. It's like having sex with someone without even having shaken a hand first. Cart before horse kind of situation. That's why I'm going to start stuffing my pockets full of business cards. I'll casually slip one across the cool linoleum floor, the smooth flourish speaking to my ease and grace. Just in case you wondered who you were shitting next to... By the way, I just love that shade of toenail polish. What is it--vermilion?