June 8, 2011 by Kim
There is little that I hate more than having to use the kid’s bathroom
It can be freshly cleaned and smelling of nothing but bleach and I will still feel as though I am sitting on 48 distinct layers of dried urine.
I, honestly, avoid it at all costs whenever possible.
But some days I can not escape it.
It may be closer in distance and my bladder may be raging
Sometimes my bare butt has to “take one for the team”
This afternoon was one of those instances…
As I settled in, something by the corner of the door caught my eye…
Oh, jeez… not again
I immediately recognized those scribbles.
It seems my stalkers were at it again.
Moved on from the likes of the white board… a sneak attack?
In familiar print “Oh Yeah” was scribbled along the side of the balloon.
Apparently my stalker is a construction worker in the seedy part of town.
Cartoon faces leered at me on my vulnerable perch atop the toilet seat.
I shifted around uncomfortably, wishing I had a steak knife I could throw at my tormentor.
I tried to stare at the wall… but how can you look away when you know you’re the center of attention.
For whatever reason, I knew THIS was the guy to be most weary of…
Maybe it’s the whole “I don’t have a body but I have eyebrows” thing…
or maybe it’s the fact that he INSISTED on being photographed next to an economy sized ketchup…
or maybe it’s his lack of feet
but… I don’t trust him